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THE 


MARTYRS 

OF THE 

COLISEUM; 

OB, 

HISTORICAL RECORDS 


OF 


THE GREAT AMPHITHEATRE OF ANCIENT ROME. 

By Rev. A. J. O’REILLY, D.D. 


M “Rew and Bnlaijged Edition. 


NEW YORK: 

D. & J. SADLIER & CO., 31 BARCLAY STREET. 

MONTREAL: 275 NOTRE DAME STREET. 

l875- 










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j HE present work, imperfect as it is, has the recoin- 
mendation of being the only one on the subject 
ever published in the English language. With a 
slight modification, this assertion may be extended to 
every other European tongue. Some works have been 
printed in Italy on the Coliseum, but they treat it as a 
pagan monument, or as a work of art. I have not found 
any one give more than a couple of pages to its Christian 
records. Marangoni’s *- Memorie Sacre e Profane dell 
Arifiteatro Flavin ” which is by far the best published, 
and from which I have largely drawn in the following 
pages, does not give more than some of the names of the 
Martyrs of the Coliseum, with references to their Acts. 
All admit that the Coliseum was sanctified by the blood 
of thousands of martyrs: they mention a few of the 
most important, and then pass on as if the world no 
longer took an interest in the most sacred and solemn 
reminiscences of the Christian past. 

Cardinal Wiseman, in his preface to Fabiola, wrote 
thus: “ If the modern Christian wishes really to know 
what his forefathers underwent for the Faith during 
three centuries of persecution, we would not have him 
content himself with visiting the Catacombs, as we have 
endeavoured to do, and thus learn what sort of life they 
were compelled to live; but we would advise him to 


IV 


PREFACE . 


read those imperishable records, the Ads of the Martyrs, 
which will show him how they were made to die. We 
know of no writings so moving, so tender, so consoling, 
and so ministering of strength to faith and hope, after 
God’s inspired words, as these venerable monuments. 
And if our reader, so advised, have not leisure to read 
much upon this subject, we would limit him willingly to 
even one specimen—the genuine Acts of SS. Perpetua 
and Felicitas. It is true that they will be best read by 
the scholar in their plain African Latinity, but we trust 
that some one will soon give us a worthy English version 
of these, and some other similar early Christian docu¬ 
ments .When our minds are sad, or the petty 

persecution of our times inclines our feeble hearts to 
murmur, we cannot do better than turn to those golden, 
because truthful legends, to nerve our courage by the 
contemplation of what children and women, catechumens 
and slaves, suffered unmurmuring for Christ.” 

I need scarcely say how I have taken up, according 
to my ability, this suggestion of the most eminent of 
modern writers. I have long loved to prize the deep 
mine of spiritual riches contained in the Ads of tht 
Martyrs. But these valuable records of the past are not 
in the hands of all. The outlay required to purchase the 
fifty large folio tomes of the Bollandists, and the erudi¬ 
tion necessary to understand the old Latin and Greek in 
which they are written, place them above the reach of 
the great majority of readers. Any translation, therefore, 
of these memorials of the early Church must be interest¬ 
ing and useful. The virtue, the power, and the extra¬ 
ordinary lives of the first Christians, are in wonderful 
contrast with those of the Christians of the present day. 


PREFACE. 


Yet Christianity is now as brilliant and powerful aa 
when it was triumphant in the Coliseum. It is the same 
faith that animates the virtue of the righteous ; it is the 
same Holy Spirit that guides and preserves the imperish¬ 
able Church built upon the rock. 

In the following translations I have not always con¬ 
fined myself to the literal rendering of the original. I 
have, on the contrary, endeavoured to avoid the monotony 
and dryness of verbatim translations. I have taken the 
ideas given in the Acts, and moulded them into English 
form, often casting flowers around them, when none 
such were given in the original. This is particularly the 
case of the romantic history of Placidus. Where I have 
met with extraordinary passages in the most authentic 
Acts, I have quoted the text in the notes, and given the 
necessary references. 

Suddenly called away to the scene of my early labours, 

I have submitted to the judgment of my superiors in 
giving the manuscript to the printers in its imperfect 
state; and without further thought for its success oi 
failure, I commit the little volume to the indulgence oi 
my readers. If perchance the beautiful and interesting 
matter I have hastily thrown together should induce 
some experienced and skilful writer to take up and treat, 
in a masterly and historical manner, this important part 
of the early history of Christianity, I shall feel repaid 
for my humble efforts; if, moreover, these touching tales 
of love, these marvels and miracles flowing from the 
mercy of God, and found in every page of these records, 
excite in the Christian reader even one sentiment of 
piety and charity, I shall feel that my labour has not 
been spent in vain. 


THE POPE’S LETTER. 


The following has been received from His Holiness Pius 
IX., through the Secretary of the Propaganda: 

“ Key. Domine, 

“ Sanctissimus Dominus Noster mihi in mandatis dedit 
Tibi significare se libenter excepisse, una cum tuis 
officiosis litteris, volumen cui titulus ‘I Martiri del 
Colosseo,’ a te in lucem editum. 

Eo vero gratius hoc tuum opus Sanctitatae Suae fuit, 
quo magis illud acerbitate et nequitiae temporum oppor- 
tunum visum est. Nam dum religionis hostes ac ethnic® 
licentiae instauratores gravem injuriam intulerunt sane- 
titati ejus loci triumphali sanguine tot Martyrum conse- 
crati, deletis nempe illic venerandis religiosi cultus 
monumentis, queis ornabatur, et ipsa precandi potestate 
Eidelibus adempta non potest profecto peculiari utilitate 
carere tua opera, quae ad debitam eisdem loci venera 
tionem tuendam spectat, et ad piam memoriam fovendam 
gloriosorum certaminum quae ibidem Christi Martyres 
sustinuerunt. Quibus adjiciens Sanctitatem Suam apos- 
tolicam benedictionem Tibi benigne impertitam esse 
precor Deum ut Tibi fausta quaeque largiatur. 

“ Romae ex aed. S. Cong, de P. Fide. 

“ Die 4 Martii, 1874. 

“ Pom. Tuae. 

“ Humillimus addictissimus famulus, 

“ JOANNES SIMEON!, 

“ Secretar « ” 

'‘Rev. Augustino O’Reilly.” 


(Translation) 


“Rev. Sir, 

“ Our most Holy Father has desired me to signify to 
you that he has been pleased to receive, with the an¬ 
nexed letters of homage, the volume published by you, 
entitled the ‘ Martyrs of the Coliseum.’ 

“ Your work is the more acceptable to his Holiness, 
as in these days of bitterness and impiety it is the more 
needed, for whilst the enemies of religion and imitators 
of pagan outrage have cast deep profanation on the 
sanctity of that place consecrated with the blood of so 
many martyrs, removing the very emblems of religious 
worship by which it was adorned, and even depriving 
the faithful of the privilege of praying within its hal¬ 
lowed precincts, your work, truly, cannot lack a special 
utility since it seeks to preserve the due veneration of 
that holy place, and to cherish the pious memory of the 
glorious conquests there gained by the Martyrs of Christ. 
Wherefore His Holiness has been graciously pleased to 
impart to you the Apostolic Benediction, which we pray 
God may propitiously extend to you. 

“ Rome, 

“ Given at the College of the Propaganda, 

“ March 4th, 1874. 

“ Your most humble and devoted servant, 

“ JOANNES SIMEONI, 

“ Secretary . 


“ Rev. Augustine O’Reilly. 1 


RECOMMENDATION 


OP 

HIS GRACE THE ARCHBISHOP OF TORONTO. 


“We recommend to the faithful of our diocese the 
‘ History of the Coliseum and its Martyrs/ written 
by the Rev. A. J. O’Reilly, Miss. Ap., a priest of our 
diocese. 

“ Nothing conduces more to the appreciation of our 
faith than the records of its triumphs. We, who are in 
union with those martyrs, and inheritors of their faith, 
should, at least in thanksgiving to God for its inestimable 
boon, labour to extend these triumphs in our own 
humble way, by our prayers and alms. 

“We recommend this work to be read in every family. 
Besides its intrinsic merit, and the fruit which it has and 
will produce, we are further consoled to know the pro¬ 
ceeds of its sale are to be applied to the Propagation of 
the Faith. 

f “JOHN JOSEPH, 

“ Archbishop of Toronto • 

“St. Michael’s Palace, 

“April 27th, 1874,” 





PREFACE TO THE SIXTH EDITION. 



N the 1st of February, 1874, I was one amongst 


many, who, through devotion and curiosity, 


visited the old and venerable ruin of the Coli¬ 
seum. It was reported the Italian Government had lent 
itself to an unmeaning desecration of its arena, so deal 
in the hallowed memories of the past; the report was 
true; but though frequently forced in those days of sad 
ness and usurpation to gaze on the traces of persecution 
and sacrilege, few of those sad scenes caused more in¬ 
dignation than the one before us. 

In the centre of the arena a crowd were watching, in 
silence, some labourers removing the last remnants of 
the graceful pyramidical steps that supported the indul- 
genced cross, that, for more than one hundred years had 
adorned the arena. It was said the cross itself, which 
we had so often reverently kissed, and had now disap¬ 
peared, was taken down in the night. Around, some 
men were destroying the little chapels of the Stations of 
the Cross, with a diligence and an earnestness not usually 
seen in Italian workmen : three of the stations had 
already disappeared ; the strokes of the sledge and the 
axe mingling with fallen masses of masonry were the 
only sounds that echoed through the vast ruin. Regret 
and suppressed indignation were strongly expressed on 







PREFACE TO THE SIXTH EDITION. 


* 

the countenances of the silent crowd. A few pious and 
courageous souls were visiting, for the last time, the 
stations that remained. We noticed several Roman ma¬ 
trons weep as they beheld the work of demolition, 
apart from the rest were some French ecclesiastics loudly 
condemning in excited conversation, the scene that so 
forcibly reminded of the days of the Iconoclasts. And 
the reason for all this profanation was officially given :— 
These religious memorials were not in keeping with the 
pagan character of the ruin. 

Truly the Coliseum was once a pagan edifice, but the 
prayers and the veneration of the generations that have 
passed in fifteen centuries, the blood of thousands of 
martyrs, and the dread sacrifice of the Mass itself, offered 
within its precincts, have rendered it a Christian monu¬ 
ment. If one martyr only had sanctified its soil with 
his blood, we would reverence the ruin. 

It was the feast of St. Ignatius. On that very morn¬ 
ing, 1767 years ago, the venerable Patriarch of Antioch 
was devoured in the arena by the lions. Fancy carried 
us over the valley of the past; we heard the shout of the 
pagan crowd calling for the annihilation of Christianity. 
We saw the beautiful Martina kneeling like a Seraph 
amidst the wild animals; the brave Placidus, the boy 
Marinus, and the invincible Eleutherus, Potitus, Alexan¬ 
der, and Vitus; all the brave band that won their crown 
in this arena: truly the reminiscences of their combat 
cast a halo of reverential awe over this battle-field of 
the Christians’ triumph. 

The Stations of the Cross which the Goths from Pied¬ 
mont were ruthlessly destroying, were erected in memory 
of events dear to the Roman people. The year 1750 was 


PREFACE TO THE SIXTH EDITION. xi 

coming to a close. The Romans had spent it well. There 
lived amongst them then the great Leonard of Port Mau 
rice. The vast and magnificent churches of the eternal 
city were too small to contain the crowds that gathered 
around this Apostolic follower of St. Francis. He had 
to leave the churches and preach in the public squares. 
The Coliseum at length became the great rendezvous, and 
twenty thousand people would gather around the rude 
pulpit erected in the amphitheatre. On one occasion the 
Pope and seventeen cardinals were present. The pious 
people wished to erect some memorial of those happy 
hours spent with the eloquent Leonard in the Coliseum. 
At his suggestion the most befitting memento that could 
adorn the Calvary of the martyrs, was the Via Crucis. 
The great ruin was then freed from robbers and outlawed 
vagrants who were concealed in it at night, when its 
sombre arches sheltered many a dark treason against 
human life, and the fugitive perpetrators from crime. 

The confraternity of the Lovers of Jesus and Mary, 
founded by Blessed Leonard, visited every Friday, up to 
this sad hour, the stations in the arena; devout pilgrims 
from every clime under heaven have knelt in tears of de¬ 
votion before these touching representations of everything 
most terrible in the past, which were now being cast 
down in wanton sacrilege at the feet of a sorrowing crowd. 

Besides the love which the Italian Government have 
for the pagan monument, which induces them to remove 
the degrading emblems of Christianity, the present pro¬ 
fanation of the ruin, is also absurdly placed under the 
auspices of archseological research. This, we fancy, is but 
a cloak in which they permit us to accuse them of igno¬ 
rance rather than infidelity. 


xii 


PREFACE TO THE SIXTH EDITION. 


They cannot but be ignorant that the arena of the 
amphitheatre stands at its present level; that in 1810 
it was excavated by Fea and Valadier. They found 
nothing but the supporting avails that allowed subterra¬ 
nean passages for machinery, water conduits, &c. The 
designs of the amphitheatre of Rome have been the same 
as those of Capua, Verona, and Pompeii, and the whole 
ground-plan of the Coliseum may be seen in the Minerva 
Library, a few hundred yards from the old ruin itself. 
Yet at the whim of the Goths that rule at the Capitol, 
the sanctity of the arena, the religious feelings of the 
people, and the borrowed resources of a bankrupt Gov¬ 
ernment, must be sacrificed to procure new plans of the 
ground-work of the Coliseum. 

Doubtless these excavations will meet the same fate 
as those of Fea and his supporters amongst the French 
usurpation. The deep cuttings in the arena became the 
receptacle of stagnant waters that gave noxious vapours 
to the winds that swept through the desolate ruin, and 
by universal desire the arena was restored to its original 
level. 

It is said that the Jews in power in the Italian Govern¬ 
ment are the desecrators of the Coliseum. Its cross, 
perhaps, reminds them of the deicide of their fathers ; it 
is the epitomized history of the church, it is the mono¬ 
gram of triumph; in silent fdoquence it represents the 
divine and indestructible faith that triumphed in the Col¬ 
iseum—a faith persecuted in the past, and persecuted in 
the present by the miserable offspring of a blinded people 
who will not learn the lesson read in the history of cen¬ 
turies. It was not archaeology, but paganism and infidel¬ 
ity, that have instigated the profanation of this or x*t 
revered monument of early Rome. 


PREFACE TO THE SIXTH EDITION. 


xiii 


The profanation of the old ruin has had quite another 
effect to that intended. The Coliseum is now better 
known ; it is dearer than ever to the Christian, and a cry 
of indignation has rung through the Catholic press of the 
world. The lives of its martyrs, the history of its thril¬ 
ling miracles, are now read in every language in Europe, 
and sought after in every clime. 

“ The Martyrs of the Coliseum,” is the only work on 
the subject afloat on the vast sea of literature, and as the 
demand for it is increasing, we present a revised edition 
to the American public. 

In the pages of this little work will be found sufficient 
reasons for the protest we make of the desecration of the 
Coliseum. Our indignation will find an echo in the feel¬ 
ings of many a traveller who, like ourselves, remember 
the time he stood in rapture in the midst of this stu¬ 
pendous wreck of magnificence; that echo caught up arul 
repeated by every civilized nation under the sun, has a 
response far away beyond the stars, where the bright 
galaxy of the crimson stole seek the vindication of their 
blood—shed again in the contempt of the pagans of the 
19 th century. 

Tiie Author. 


Toronto, St. Michael’s Palace, 
Feast of St. Monica, 1874. 















- 

' 

' 

* 













CONTENTS. 


CHAP. PAGK 

I. INTRODUCTION.1 

II. THE ORIGIN AND EARLY HISTORY OP THE COLISEUM - 6 

III. ITS ENTERTAINMENTS AND SPECTACLES 13 

IV. THE CHRISTIANS.25 

V. THE FIRST MARTYR.29 

VI. ST. IGNATIUS.39 

VII. THE ROMAN GENERAL.-58 

VIII. THE YOUNG BISHOP.120 

IX. THE SARDINIAN YOUTH.. 

X. ST. ALEXANDER.184 

XI. THE SENATORS.213 

XII. MARINES.230 

XIII. MARTINA.239 

XIV. THE PERSIAN KINGS.251 

XV. THE ACTS OP POPE STEPHEN -.2G5 

XVI. TWO HUNDRED AND SIXTY SOLDIERS .... 287 

XVII. ACTS OP ST. PRISCA.293 

XVIII. CHKYSANTIIUS AND DARIA.310 

XIX. PERSECUTION OF DIOCLETIAN.335 

XX. ACTS OF ST. VITUS AND COMPANIONS .... SCO 

XXI. META SEDANS.374 

XXII. THE LAST MARTYR.386 

XXIII. TELEMACHUS STILL TRIUMPHANT.398 

XXIV. THE COLISEUM IN THE MIDDLE AGES .... 411 

XXV. OTHER REMARKABLE EVENTS . 426 

XXVI. THE CONCLUSION.412 




















i 1 1 s:p - ', 

* 




THE 


MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


CHAPTER I. 


INTRODUCTION. 


* And thou didst shine, thou rolling moon, upon 
All this, and cast a wide and tender light 
Which softened down the hoar austerity 
Of rugged desolation, and filled up. 

As ’twere, anew the gaps of centuries. 
Leaving that beautiful which still was so, 

And making that which was not, till the place 
Became religion, and the heart ran o’er 
With silent worship of the great of old, 

The dead but sceptred sovereigns, who still rule 
Our spirits from their urns.” 


— Byron's Manfred, 



N the year 590, when St. Gregory the Great was 


elected to the chair of St. Peter, ambassadors were 


sent from the Emperor Justinian in the East to con¬ 
gratulate his Holiness and tender the usual spiritual alle¬ 
giance to the Yicar of Christ. When they were leaving 
Rome, they requested the holy Father to give them some 
relic to take back to their own country. St. Gregory led 
them to the Coliseum. Taking up some of the clay of 




2 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


the arena, he folded it up in a napkin, and handed it to 
the ambassadors. They seemed not to appreciate the 
gift, and respectfully remonstrated. The holy Pope, 
raising his eyes and his heart towards heaven, with love 
and kindness beaming in his countenance, said to them, 
“ You know not what you have ; ” and taking the napkin 
in his hand, unfolded it, and showed it to them, stained 
with blood—the blood of the martyrs who suffered in 
the Coliseum !* 

There is no ruin of the ancient world so interesting as 
the great amphitheatre at Rome. It stands in stupen¬ 
dous magnificence, in the midst of the seven hills of the 
old capital of the world, as a monument of everything 
that was great or terrible in the past. The immensity 
and majesty of its designs tell the perfection of art, and 
its reminiscences recall all the horrors of persecution and 
the triumphs of Christianity. It was the battle-field in 
which the Church fought for the conversion of the pagan 
world; the blood of the martyred heroes who fell in the 
fight still mingles with the clay of the sanctified arena ; 
it was this blood Gregory gave to the ambassadors who 
wished to have some relics from the city of martyrs. 

The storms of seventeen centuries have rolled over the 
mighty amphitheatre, and left it as gigantic in its ruins 
as thrilling in its history. Tier rises on tier to the blue 
vault of heaven ; the wandering eye cannot grasp its im¬ 
mensity ; and although shaken by earthquakes and the 
lightnings of ffeaven, and rifled of its travertine by the 
spoilers of the Middle Ages, it still stands with imperish¬ 
able grandeur in the midst of the seven hills, “ a noble 
wreck of ruinous perfection.” 

* The same is recorded of Pius V. See lessons of his feast in the 
Pcminican Breviary. 


INTRODUCTION. 


3 


We remember well our first visit to the ruins of the 
Coliseum. It was an event of our life. We found in the 
majestic pile a realisation of the highest flights of fancy. 
A thousand thoughts rushed to our mind; the silent 
majesty that shrouded those immense tottering walls, and 
their thrilling history, made us stand fixed to the ground 
in admiration and awe. A momentary glance, a thought 
filled up the gap of centuries; the marble seats were 
again crowded before the mind’s eye with thousands of 
human beings ; the wounded lion—the dying gladiator— 
the kneeling martyr, appeared in rapid succession on the 
blood-stained arena ; the deafening shout of the excited 
populace; the condemnation of the Christians, and the 
call for their blood to be given to satiate the thirst of the 
lions—all formed a picture of the past that sent a thrill 
to the heart. We stood on the arena that saw Rome’s 
infancy and the Church’s glory. The very clay under our 
feet was holy ! one day it would give up that which, in 
eternity, would be one of the brightest ornaments of 
heaven—the blood of the martyrs ! With feelings of awe, 
veneration and delight, we knelt at the foot of the cross— 
that cross which was the standard of Christianity, and 
which now flings its triumphant shadow over the silent 
arena in which all the power of man had endeavoured 
to destroy it. 

While wrapt in thought, we heard sounds of admi¬ 
ration expressed in several languages from groups of tourists 
who stood gazing at the mighty ruin. Thousands pour 
annually into the Eternal City, and justly hasten to the 
Coliseum as one of. the most interesting of the many 
sights of Rome. Here the trader from beyond the Rocky 
Mountains stands beside the gold-digger from Australia, 


4 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


and, as was our case, the missioner on sick-leave from 
the Cape of Good Hope could shake hands with an old 
school companion from the British Isles. From morn¬ 
ing til] night the wandering stranger is seen in the arena 
of the mighty ruin, and long too after nightfall, when 
silence and darkness have lent additional romance to its 
magnificence. When the pale light of the moon swells its 
sombre arches into marvellous immensity, the sentimen¬ 
tal tourist stands in the bleak solitude of the gigantic 
fabric, and feeds his vivid fancy with shadowy pictures of 
castles and towers, and other amphitheatres that spring 
from the broken arches and crumbling walls. The 
Coliseum, once seen, is never forgotten, whether viewed 
under the full blaze of the scorching Italian sun, or under 
the magic influence of the pale light of the moon. 

Our first hour in the Coliseum was one of regret. The 
present contributed more than the past to cast a gloom 
over our thoughts. The terrible scenes that passed in 
that arena, the wholesale slaughter of innocent victims, 
the inhuman shout that consigned the brave gladiator to 
his doom, the horrors of its bloodshed, made it well 
called by Tertullian a place without mercy;* yet the 
curse of paganism, that brooded over this temple of 
the furies, steeled the hearts of the spectators, and 
brought on demoniac infatuation and blindness. This 
picture was painful, but another thought gave us sor¬ 
row. Thousands that pour into the Coliseum are 
strangers to the sacred reminiscences that hang around 
its hallowed ruins. That spirit of infidelity which now¬ 
adays robs literature of every sentiment of religion, will 
not permit history to give the most sacred and solemn 
part of its records. Irreligious guide-books are in the 
* De Spectaculis, cap. xix. 


INTRODUCTION. 


5 


hands of every traveller, books that devote whole pages 
to liie description of the infamous and bloody practices 
of paganism, but dare not give one paragraph, or even 
make an allusion, to the sufferings of the martyrs. A 
description is given of tl e pagan monument, but no men¬ 
tion is made of its connection with the first ages of the 
Church. The educated Christian sees more in the 
Coliseum than imperishable walls, or sublime designs of 
architecture, shadowed forth in the gigantic remnants of 
the mouldering ruin : he sees before him a monument of 
that alone which was great and noble in the past—the 
triumph of his faith. He remembers that every niche 
of that arena has been dyed with the blood of martyrs. 
He feels that their triumph is his own. After the lapse of 
seventeen hundred years he is united with them in the 
unbroken chain of communion, and at the same moment 
that he is startled with the majesty and magnificence of 
the ruin, he kneels to kiss the rude cross that is raised 
within its precincts to commemorate the greatest battle¬ 
field of the followers of the Crucified. 

It was this thought which suggested this little work. 
The Coliseum is the largest and most remarkable of the 
ruins of Ancient Rome; it is more remarkable on 
account of the martyrs who suffered in it, and the 
miracles it witnessed. These are but little known. We 
have employed our leisure hours in putting together a 
few of the most authentic records. We present them in 
their rough and unadorned simplicity to the Christian 
who loves to honour the heroes of the early Church, to 
the student who loves to pore over the records of the 
martyrology, and to the tourist who visits the Eternal 
City, and asks in vain from his guide or from his friends, 
“ Who were the martyrs of the Coliseum ? ” 



CHAPTER II. 

THE ORIGIN AND EARLY HISTORY OF THE COLISEUM. 

S HE memory of the Emperor Augustus was dear to the 
Roman people. By his great skill and talent, he not 
only won for himself the sceptre of supreme power, 
but raised up the Empire itself amongst the nations of the 
world, and commenced what is generally known as its 
golden age. His natural virtues stood in agreeable con¬ 
trast with the debaucheries and vices of his immediate 
successors. To him is due the honour of having first 
designed the erection of the amphitheatre. Having 
embellished the city with baths and temples of surpass¬ 
ing magnificence, he conceived the idea of erecting an 
immense amphitheatre for the gladiatorial spectacles, 
which should exceed in dimensions and splendour every 
other building in the world. Death cut him. off before 
he could carry out his great project. Years rolled on, 
and seven Emperors, who had neither energy nor talent 
to carry out the immense design, sat on the throne of 
Augustus. Yet it was not forgotten, and the cry of the 
people for the commencement of the amphitheatre was 
heard by Vespasian; and to this enterprising Emperor 


EARLY HISTORY OF THE COLISEUM. 


7 


is due the erection of this greatest work of antiquity, and 
now grandest ruin in the world.* 

Vespasian was proud and ambitious; «he sought to 
rival the fame of Augustus, and in the second year after 
his elevation to the throne, he commenced the Coliseum : 
this was in the year of our Lord 72. He died before 
it was completed; and although there were more than 
thirty thousand persons constantly employed, it took 
eight years in its erection, and was dedicated by Titus in 
A.D. 80. The work was not perfectly finished until the 
reign of Domitian. 

This stupendous building was erected on the site of a 
fish-pond in the gardens of Nero. Standing in the midst 
of the seven hills, and in the very heart of the ancient 
city, it not only surpassed in immensity and magnifi¬ 
cence the two other marble amphitheatres which Rome 
possessed, but even outshone the glittering splendours 
of the golden house of Nero. Both Vespasian and Titus 
availed themselves of the experience of their travels in 
the East, for they cast into the designs of the amphi¬ 
theatre all the boldness and majesty of the Syrian and 
Egyptian architecture,, with the embellishment and refine¬ 
ment of Grecian art Its immensity, even in- its ruins, is 
surprising, whilst its arches rise in magical proportions 
over each other, in the Ionic, Doric, and Corinthian 
orders. Size, beauty and strength have been combined 
to render it the largest, the most beautiful, and the most 
durable of ancient monuments. Raised in the air as 
high as the Palatine and Celian hills, a mountain without 
and a valley within, it unquestionably surpassed anything 

* “ Fecit amphitheatrum urbi media uti destinasse compererat 
Augustus.”— Suet, in Vespas. ix. 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


that Greece, or Egypt, or Rome had seen before. Martial, 
the poet, who saw it spring from its foundation, declares* 
that Rome had no longer anything to envy in the East, 
since her superb amphitheatre was more wonderful than 
the pyramids of Memphis or the works of Babylon. Yet 
the most approved critics define the Coliseum as an 
oriental edifice dressed in a Grecian costume. 

The greatest works of man have generally their origin 
in destruction. In the history of the world there has 
scarcely ever been a great building or a nation that did 
not rise on the ruins of another. The workmen of the 
Coliseum were the captive Jews that adorned the triumph 
of Titus ; the material was partly taken from the fallen 
house of Nero. Christians may look on it as a mighty 
monument, raised to commemorate the fulfilment of 
prophecy. 

The plough has passed over the city and temple of 
Jerusalem, its proud people have been humbled to the 
dust and scattered to the four winds of heaven. Seventy 
thousand of this conquered race were brought to Rome 
by Titus. Having adorned his triumph, they were 
divided into three classes; the women and children up 
to sixteen years of age were sold as slaves for the most 
miserable prices. Our Blessed Lord was sold for thirty 
pieces of silver; after the triumph of Titus, you. could 
get thirty Jews for one piece of silver. Some of the men 

• “ Barbara pyramidum sileat miracula Memphis: 

Assiduus jacet nec Baby Iona labor. 

Aere nec vacuo pendentia Mausolea 

Laudibus immodicis Cares in astra ferant; 

Omnis Caesareo cedat labor amphitheatro, 

Unutn prse cunctis fama loquatur opus.” 

—Martial Spec, t I. 


EARLY HISTORY OF THE COLISEUM. t, 

• 

were sent to Egypt to work in the marble quarries, but 
by far the largest number were retained for the works of 
the Coliseum. The number is variously estimated from 
thirty thousand to fifty thousand. Thus the walls of that 
mighty emblem of everything gloomy and horrible were 
cemented with the tears of a fallen people. 

The upper structures of the Coliseum were raised by 
material taken from the fallen house of the Caesars on 
the Palatine. When Vespasian and Titus gave orders for 
the destruction of the greater part of the house of Nero, 
they performed an act most pleasing to the Eoman people. 
It was a monument of hateful splendour that rose on 
the ruins of their burned city ; its riches and its grandeur 
could but remind them of tyranny and oppression. No 
sooner was the order given than the populace joined in 
the work of devastation. Immense boulders of gilded 
travertine, columns, and capitals, and marble cornices of 
the most elaborate carving, bonds of iron and gold, and 
imperishable masses of brickwork, were rudely and in¬ 
discriminately hurried away to ornament or fill up the 
great work of the Coliseum. 

The mighty amphitheatre itself will become a ruin, 
and, after the lapse of centuries, will be stricken by the 
hand of time, and will, in its own turn, lend the mate- 
terial of its fallen arches to build the mediaeval and 
modern palaces of the Eternal City. The immense qua¬ 
drilateral palace of the Venetian embassy, the Farnese, 
the Barberini, and others of lesser note, sprung from the 
ruins of the Coliseum. Thus it is in the history of man ; 
the greatest monuments of modern splendour have risen, 
phoenix-like, from the ruins of the mighty structures that 
our ancestors vainly imagined imperishable. 


10 THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 

We must now take a view of the amphitheatre in its 
perfect state. Scattered fragments of description have 
been collected from ancient historians, and the picture is 
nearly complete. Fancy can fill up many details from 
the ruins as they now stand. 

It has a beautiful elliptic figure, 564 feet in length and 
467 in breadth. It was raised on eighty immense arches, 
and rose in four successive orders of architecture to the 
height of 140 feet. The whole building covered a space 
equal to six English acres. The outside was incrusted 
with marble and decorated with statues. The slopes of 
the vast concave which formed the inside were filled and 
surrounded with sixty or eighty rows of seats of marble, 
covered with cushions, and capable of receiving with ease 
a hundred thousand spectators.* Sixty-four vomitories 
(for by that name the doors were very aptly distinguish¬ 
ed) poured forth the immense multitudes ; the entrances, 
the passages, and staircases were contrived with such ex 
quisite skill, that each person, whether of the senatorian. 
equestrian, or plebian order, arrived at his destined place 
without trouble or confusion. 

The lowest row of seats next to the arena, now com¬ 
pletely covered by earth and debris, assigned to the 
senators and foreign ambassadors, was called the podium. 
There also on an elevated platform was the Emperor’s 
throne, shaded by a canopy like a pavilion. The place 
for the manager or editor of the games, as he was 
called, and the vestal virgins, was beside the Emperor’s 
seat. 

* Cardinal Wiseman, in a note in Fabiola, says, it could hold at 
least a hundred and fifty thousand spectators; but none. of the 
Italian antiquarians have mentioned more than a hundred thou¬ 
sand. 


EARLY HISTORY OF TIIE COLISEUM. 


n 


The podium was secured with a breastwork or parapet 
of gold or gilt bronze against the irruption of the wild 
beasts. As a further defence, the arena was surrounded 
with an iron railing and a canal. The equites, or second 
order of nobles, sat in fourteen rows behind the senators, 
The rest of the people sat behind on seats called popularia 
rising tier above tier to a gallery with a colonnade in front, 
running all round the amphitheatre immediately under 
the awning, and generally occupied by females, soldiers, 
and attendants. 

Nothing was omitted that could in any way be subser¬ 
vient to the convenience and pleasure of the spectators. 
The immense canopy or awning which at times was 
stretched over the entire expanse from the outer wall, as 
a protection from the sun or rain, was one of the wonders 
of the Coliseum. It requires a stretch of imagination to 
believe it. When we stand, even now, in the midst of 
the ruins, and see the vast expanse of the heavens above 
us, the mind is lost in doubt and conjecture about the 
possibility of such a marvellous fact. Yet all the his¬ 
torians who have written of the Coliseum mention it as 
if there was nothing extraordinary about it. Lampridius 
mentions that the men who were to work this awning 
were dressed as sailors, and numbered several hun¬ 
dreds.* At a signal given, when there was fear of rain, 
or the sun was too hot, there would be a simultaneous 
movement amongst the attendants—the cords would 
creak, and the mighty sails would roll gradually to the 
centre, each sail meeting in perfect harmony, and form¬ 
ing together an immense sheet that completely covered 

* “ A militibus classiariis qui vela ducebant in amphitheatre), ” &c, 
—Laniprid. in Commodo. 


12 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


the interior. Stranger still the fact that this awning, in 
the time of Titus, was purple silk, fringed with gold.* 
The air was continually refreshed by the playing foun¬ 
tains, and an infinity of small tubes dispersed a shower 
of the most delicious perfumes which descended on the 
spectators like aromatic dews. The arena, in the centre 
of which stood the statue of Jupiter, formed the stage, 
and derived its name from being usually strewed with the 
finest white sand. Underneath, they had mechanism of 
the most extraordinary and complicated character, so 
that the arena could, during the games, assume different 
forms in quick succession. At one time it would seem 
to rise out of the earth like the Garden of the Hesperides, 
md was afterwards broken into the rocks and caverns of 
Thrace. Subterranean pipes conveyed an inexhaustible 
supply of water, and what just before appeared a level 
plain, might suddenly be converted into a wide lake 
covered with armed vessels to delight the people with 
nautical entertainments. 

“ Sous Titus un tissu de soie et d’or avec des broderies extend 
sur le nouvel amphitheatre.”— Gerbet, Esqui&se de Rome Chr&ienne , 
ii. 345. 



CHAPTER III. 

THE ENTERTAINMENTS AND SPECTACLES OF THE 
COLISEUM. 

t HE games and amusements which delighted the 
^ people of Rome present a spectacle of horror that 
sends a thrill to the very heart. No entertainment 
was popular unless accompanied by bloodshed and the 
loss of life; no mock tragedies would be cheered in this 
temple of the furies. The amusements of the Coliseum 
form the darkest page in the records of the past. 

During the greater celebrations there was scarcely a 
day passed in which some hundreds of mangled carcases 
of men and beasts were not dragged from the arena to 
the spoliarium or dead-house. The games commenced 
about ten, and often lasted till dark; during all these 
hours, victim was falling upon victim; the spectators, 
more and more intoxicated with each new draught of 
blood, drunk in by their glistening eyes, yelled for fresh 
victims and more blood. On more than one occasion it 
happened that every animal in the vivarium was slain in 
one day. Eutropius, speaking of Titus, says—“ And when 
he had built the amphitheatre at Rome, he inaugurated 
the games, and caused five thousand beasts to be slain.” 
(Eutropius, book ix. ch. x.) Gladiators, slaves, and 
Christians were the principal victims of the games. 


H THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


Yet there were bright spots in this picture of carnage— 
there were moments when the universal applause of the 
populace rung through every portion of the building in 
approbation of scenes of beauty, innocence, and mechan¬ 
ism that can scarcely be rivalled in modern art. Their 
great games, which often lasted for entire weeks, were a 
strange mixture of the comic and the tragic, the jovial 
and the horrible. A favourite amusement was to witness 
the acting of trained animals in the circus. The writers 
of those times tell us of an elephant that w T as a rope- 
walker,* of a bear which sat in a chair, dressed as a 
matron, which was carried around the arena by atten¬ 
dants f Then we have an account of the king of the 
forest, with gilt claws, and mane bespangled with gold 
and precious stones, which, as a strange contrast to suc¬ 
cessive scenes, was made to represent the virtue of 
clemency, being trained to play with a hare. He would 
take the frightened little animal in his mouth, put it on 
his back, and lavish on it a thousand caresses. J Then 
we read of twelve tame elephants, six male and six 
female, dressed in the togas of men and women, who 

* “ Elephas erectus ad summum theatri fornicem, unde decurritin 
fune sessorem gerens.”— Dio. in Neron. 

Also Suetonius in Galba, cap. vi., says—“Galba elephantos 
funambulos dedit.” 

-f “ Yidi ursum mansuetum quse cultu inatronali sella vehebatur.” 
— Apul . Asin. lib. xii. 

* “ Leonum 
Quos velox leporum timor fatigat. 

Dirnittunt, repetunt, amantque captos ; 

Et securior est in ore prseda 
Laxos cui dare, perviosque rictus 
Gaudent et timidos timere dentes, 

Mollem frangere dura pudet rapinam.’* 

— Martial, lib. i. Epigram, cv. 14. 


ENTERTAINMENTS OF THE COLISEUM. 


15 


would sit at table, and eat delicate viands and drink wine 
from golden cups, and would use with the greatest 
delicacy and care that extraordinary trunk, with which 
they can lift a pin from the ground, or tear the forest 
oak from its roots.* Others were trained to the Pyrrhic 
dance, and would spread flowers on the arena. They 
had a peculiar strong drink to which the elephants were 
partial; it. inebriated them, and caused them to go 
through antics and manoeuvres that produced incessant 
roars of laughter from the spectators. 

We learn from Martial and others that there was 
another species of amusement of a grander and more 
exciting character, but intermingled and tainted with 
that spirit of cruelty which characterised most of the 
games of the amphitheatre. As already mentioned, the 
underground passages served as keeps and caves for the 
beasts, or might become immense aqueducts to flood the 
arena, which became a lake for naval entertainments. 
Ships with armed men were floated, and fought des¬ 
perately with each other, as if an empire depended on 
the issue of the battle. On one occasion a large ship 
■was introduced to this artificial lake, full of men and 
animals, and at a given signal it opened its sides and 
fell to pieces, casting its living freight into the waters. 
Then came all the horrors of a shipwreck : the screams 
from the animals and the piteous cries of the drowning 
slaves, sounded like music to the Roman ear. 

By a combination of mechanical skill the fable of 
Orpheus was almost realised. The soil of the arena was 
made to open suddenly in a hundred places, and trees 
would spring up clothed in the deepest green foliage, and 

* See Billing de Venation. Circ. cap. xx. 


1G 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


bearing golden apples in imitation of the fabulous trees 
of the Garden of the Hesperides. Wild animals were 
let loose into this enchanting forest; the trees would 
move to the sound of a flute ; and that nothing might be 
wanting to the reality of the representation, the unfortu¬ 
nate slave who had the honour of representing the 
Orpheus of the spectacle was torn to pieces by a bear.* 
A failure in any of the mechanism of these shows was 
considered a slight to the Emperor, and the director 
was punished with public death. Were it not for this 
inhuman and barbarous custom, which cramped with fear 
the greatest genius of the Empire, the Coliseum would 
have witnessed many great triumphs of mechanical art. 

Amongst the spectacles founded on pagan mythology, 
Martial makes mention in his Epigrams of a parricide 
who was crucified in the Coliseum ; also of a horrible 
scene of Daedalus raised in the air with false wings, and 
then permitted to fall into the arena, where he was 
devoured by wild animals. On another occasion a slave 
was obliged to represent Mutius Scsevola, and to put his 
hand into a fire until completely burned. The wretch 
who had to suffer this awful cruelty had another alter¬ 
native, for his garments were covered with pitch and 
tar, and if he wavered or flinched for a moment, he was 
burned alive. 

But by far the most common amusement of the Coli¬ 
seum were the combats with the beasts and the gladiators. 
The wild animals were made to fight with each other, 
then with men; and lastly, man with his fellow-man. 
When wild animals were put into the arena to fight with 
each other, everything that could rouse or excite them 


* Martial, Spect. xxi. i. 


ENTER T. i IS 2d EN TS OR TEE COLISEUM. 17 

was studied with the most cruel skill. The colours they 
hated most were scattered in profusion around them ; 
they were beaten with whips, and their sides were tom 
with iron hooks; hot plates of iron were fastened to them, 
and even balls of fire were placed on their backs. Thus 
the enraged animals would run round the arena; the 
earth would tremble under the thunder of their agoniz¬ 
ing roars, and the inflated chest would seem to burst 
under the fire of passion that drove them mad. Their 
eyes sparkled with rage, and tearing up the sand with 
their claws, they enveloped themselves in a cloud of dust. 
In their fury they tore each other to pieces. 

If, as sometimes happened, an infuriated lioness or 
tigress should kill the men and animals presented to 
her, frantic shouts of applause rose from every side of 
the amphitheatre, and whilst, mistress of the battlefield, 
she walked over the bodies of her victims, the people 
called aloud for her liberty, to have her sent back again 
to her native deserts. 

The combats between men and beasts were still more 
popular. The Emperors themselves used to take part 
in them, and even women had the hardihood to enter 
the arena, and combat with the most ferocious animals. 
There were two classes of people destined for this spe¬ 
cies of sport—one was armed—they carried . weapons 
according to their choice; the others were poor slaves, 
captives, or criminals, who were exposed defenceless to 
the beasts. To this class the Christians belonged . They 
were distinguished from the gladiators by the oppro¬ 
brious sobriquet of Bestiaries. 

The combat of gladiators is supposed to have been of 
Etruscan origin It formed part of the funeral obsequies 
B 


IS 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM . 


of great men, according to the pagan belief that the shades 
or manes of the dead were appeased by the shedding of 
blood. This strange funeral rite was first introduced 
into Eome at the obsequies of Junius Brutus in the year 
490 of the city, and about 260 years before the Christian 
era. It seems to have been so pleasing to the cruel 
tastes of the Roman people, as to have soon become a 
common pastime. The gladiatorial fights were, strictly 
speaking, the games of the Coliseum, and to these it 
owes its existence. Such was the rage of the people for 
these sights, that it is believed that a hundred thou¬ 
sand gladiators fell within its walls. During twelve days 
Trajan made as many as ten thousand gladiators fight 
successively; almost all the succeeding Emperors fol¬ 
lowed his example. The men who fought as gladiators 
were generally captives taken in v r ar or slaves. At a 
later period, it became a kind of profession, and freemen 
and noblemen, maddened by enthusiasm, are said to have 
entered the lists to fight in deadly combat with the poor 
captive from Thrace or Gaul. Even women appeared in 
the arena as Amazons, and fought frantically and bravely 
amid the unceasing acclamations of the people. 

"VVe are told by Herodian and Lampridius that the 
Emperor Commodus, not content with witnessing the 
fights of the gladiators, entered the arena himself, almost 
naked, and armed with a short sword, and would challenge 
them to combat. Those who contended with him were 
enjoined not to inflict any wound; but the moment they 
received a slight wound they fell on their knees before 
him and, declaring themselves defeated, sued for mercy. 
H aving thus defeated a thousand gladiators, he ordered 
the head to be taken from the collossal statue of the sun, 


ENTERTAINMENTS OF THE COLISEUM. 


19 


and his own image placed in its stead; on the base of 
the monument he put this inscription, “ Mille Gladiato- 
rum victor ”*—“ The conqueror of a thousand gladiators.” 

After the procession of the gods (with which the 
games of the amphitheatre, as well as those of the circus, 
were commenced), the gladiators who were doomed to 
fight were also led around the arena in procession; t 
then they were matched in pairs, and their swords 
examined by the manager. As a prelude to the battle, 
and to create the proper pitch of excitement, they fought 
first with wooden swords; then, upon a signal being given 
by sound of trumpet, these were laid aside and deadly 
weapons were substituted. The interest of the assembled 
thousands was soon carried to the highest pitch of 
excitement; from time to time they burst into deafening 
shouts of applause, or a dread silence reigned throughout 
the vast amphitheatre, a suspense which only ended in 
the death of one of the combatants. When a gladiator 
received a wound, his adversary would cry out, “He has 
got it ”—(Hoc habet!) Sometimes the wounded wretch 
would endeavour to conceal his wound, or pretend it was 
of no account, and perhaps would fall to the ground in 
making his last and desperate rush on his adversary. 
Hut his fate depended on the pleasure of the people; if 
they wished him to be saved, they pressed down their 
thumbs, and, if to be slain, they turned them up. The 
latter was more generally the awful verdict of the unfeel¬ 
ing mob; the cry of “ recipe ferrum ” would fall with 
terrible vehemence on the dying man’s ears. This simply 

* Marangonl, p. 38. 

f “ Jam ostentata per arenam periturorum corpora mortis sure 
pojnpam auxerant ."—Quintilian Dedam. ix. 


20 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


meant that he was to submit to his fate bravely and with 
dignity; that he should show no disgraceful writhings or 
contortions of pain, that he should have even an art in 
the awful agonies of death. “ The people/’ says Seneca, 
“thought themselves insulted when he would not die 
willingly ; and by look, by gesture, and by vehemence of 
manner, called for his immediate execution.” 

Lactantius, in the sixth book of his sublime Apology for 
the true roligion, gives an idea of the barbarity of these 
games in the very words by which he condemns them :— 
“ Whoever takes delight in the sight of blood, although 
it be that of a criminal justly condemned to death, de¬ 
files his conscience. But the pagans have turned the 
shedding of human blood into a pastime. So totally has 
humanity receded from men’s breasts, that they make 
their amusement consist in abetting murder and sacri¬ 
ficing human life. Now, I ask, can those be called just 
and pious who not only permit the slaughter of one who 
lies prostrate under the drawn sword, supplicating for life, 
but who demand that he be murdered; who give their 
cruel and inhuman suffrages for death, not satiated with 
the wounds and gore of their hapless victim 1 Nay, 
when stretched dead before them on the sand, they 
command the lifeless and bleeding body to be stabbed 
over and over again, and cut and mangled lest they 
should be deluded by a sham homicide. They get furious 
with the combatants who do not cjuickly despatch each 
other, and, as if they thirsted for human blood, are im¬ 
patient of delay. Each company of newcomers, as it 
pours into the circles, vociferates for fresh victims that 
they may satiate their eyes.” 

Thus duels and combats by groups, and melees of the 


ENTERTAINMENTS OF THE COLISEUM. 21 

most terrible slaughter passed like whirlwinds under the 
frenzied gaze of the people. For hours, and even days, 
the arena of the Coliseum was reeking with the blood of 
its victims.; its sickening vapours would ascend to the 
pure air of heaven as from an immense cauldron of 
cruelty and pleasure. 

St. Augustine gives us, in the sixth book of his Con¬ 
fessions, a singularly vivid description of the excitement 
that prevailed among the spectators during these san¬ 
guinary struggles. 

“ It happened,” he says, “ while his friend Alipius was 
studying the law at Rome, that he was met one day by 
some of his fellow-students as they were walking after 
dinner, who insisted on taking him to the amphitheatre; 
for it was one of the dismal holidays when Rome took 
its pleasure in these spectacles of human slaughter. 

“ As Alipius had an extreme horror of this kind of 
cruelty, he at first resisted with all his might; but re¬ 
sorting to that sort of violence which is sometimes per¬ 
mitted among friends, they dragged him along, while he 
repeated, ‘ You may drag my body along with you, and 
place me amongst you in the amphitheatre, but you can¬ 
not dispose of my mind nor of my eyes, which shall not, 
most assuredly, take any part in the spectacle. I shall 
be absent, therefore, although present in body, and thus 
I shall render myself superior to the violence you practise 
on me and to the passion by which you are possessed.’ 
But he might as well have been silent; they drew him 
along, having a mind, perhaps, to see if he could be as 
good as his word. 

“ At length they arrived, and placed themselves as best 
they could; and while all the amphitheatre was ill trans- 


22 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


ports with these barbarous pleasures, Alipius guarded his 
heart from taking any part in them, keeping his eyes shut. 
And would to God/’ continues St. Augustine, “he had also 
stopped his ears ; for having been struck by a great and 
universal shout, which w r as caused among the people by 
something extraordinary that had occurred in the combat, 
he was seized with curiosity, and merely wishing to ascer¬ 
tain what it could be—persuaded that, no matter what it 
was, he would despise it—he opened his eyes, and in so 
doing inflicted on his own soul a wound more fatal than 
that which one of the gladiators had just received in his 
body ; it was the occasion of a fall far more dangerous than 
that of the unfortunate gladiator whose overthrow had 
occasioned the inhuman shout which had tempted him to 
open his eyes. Cruelty entered into his heart, the blood, 
which at the same moment was pouring out on the arena, 
met his eyes, and, very far from turning them away, he 
kept them riveted to the spot, drinking in long draughts 
of fury without perceiving it, and allowing himself to be 
intoxicated with criminal pleasure. 

“He was no longer the same Alipius who had been 
dragged there by force ; he was a man of the same stamp 
as those who made up the crowd of the amphitheatre, and 
a fit companion for those who brought him there. He 
looked on, he shouted, mingling his cries with theirs, 
feverish with excitement, and, like them, totally absorbed 
in the vicissitude's of the combat. In fine, he departed 
from the amphitheatre with such a passion for these 
sights that he could think of nothing else. Not only 
was he ready to return with those who had been obliged 
to use force with him in the first instance, but he was 
more infuriated about the gladiators than they, drawing 


ENTERTAINMENTS OF THE COLISEUM. 23 

others with him, and ever ready to lead the way to the 
amphitheatre.” (Book vii. ch. viii.) 

So intense was the excitement of the people during 
these fights, that they seemed to lose all self-control; 
from morning till evening, careless of cold or heat, they 
gazed with mad excitement on the arena, and their minds 
were agitated with the fluctuating passions of hope and 
fear, like the ocean tossed by contrary winds. Nor was 
the demon of discord idle whilst the furies flapped their 
funereal wings over these bloody scenes. The spectators 
were divided into several parties. Sharp and bitter 
discussions concerning the rival merits of the combatants 
formed an inexhaustible source of broils and disputes; 
and sometimes they became so excited, as to pass from 
criticism and argument to blows, and even to deadly 
weapons, until the benches of the amphitheatre from 
end to end became the scene of sanguinary tumult and 
massacre. 

We have an account of one of these terrible scenes 
in the Circus Maximus, in which upwards of thirty thou¬ 
sand persons were killed or wounded. Something similar 
happened in the Coliseum on the occasion of a scene of 
horrible cruelty. One of the Emperors obliged a cele¬ 
brated gladiator to fight three others in succession. The 
tyrant Gesler, who made Tell split an apple with his 
arrow at a hundred paces on his son’s head, was not more 
inhuman. The poor gladiator fought bravely, and slew 
the first two opponents, but wearied and wounded, fell 
whilst fighting the third. The excitement of this scene 
drove the people to madness ; they turned on each other, 
and terrible bloodshed was the result. 

We will conclude this brief notice of the gladiatorial 


24 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


scenes of the Coliseum by quoting the beautiful and 
touching lines of Lord Byron :— 

“ I see before me the gladiator lie; 

He leans upon his hand, his manly brow 
Consents to death, but conquers agony, 

And his drooped head sinks gradually low, 

And through his side the last drops, ebbing slow, 

From the red gash fall heavy, one by one, 

Like the first of a thunder-shower ; and now 
The arena swims around him, he is gone, 

Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hailed the 
wretch who won. 

He heard it, but he heeded not; his eyes 
Were with his heart, and that was far away; 

He recked not of the life he lost, nor prize ; 

But where his rude hut by the Danube lay, 

There were his young barbarians all at play, 

There was their Dacian mother—he, their sire, 

Butchered to make a Homan holiday. 

All this rushed with his blood : shall he expire, 

And unavenged ? Arise, ye Goths, and glut your ire.” 

—Childe Harold. 



CHAPTER IV. 

THE CHRISTIANS. 

•y^^UCH were the bloody and cruel amusements pre« 
sented fr6m time to time to the Romans. This 
kind of inhuman sport had a reign of more than a 
thousand years, and can be traced far back to the remotest 
antiquity. Long before the dawn of Christianity, and 
before a stone was laid in the foundations of the mighty 
Coliseum, the poets made them the subject of their verses, 
the orators coloured their effusions with descriptions of 
these sanguinary combats ; the frescoes on the walls were 
scenes of bloodshed, and the dull marble was made to 
tell their horrors. The two grandest ruins that remain 
of Ancient Rome are the monuments of its paganism and 
its cruelty. The magnificence and spVidour of the Pan¬ 
theon and the Coliseum form a terrible contrast with the 
scenes that passed within them. When we lift the veil 
which time has flung over the past, and contemplate the 
Romans in their wealth, their power and magnificence, 
we cannot but be horrified as well as surprised at those 
dark and gloomy records of tyranny and cruelty which 
stain every page of their history. The people who revelled 
in these scenes of bloodshed were men as we are ; 
then, as now, the heart was capable of noble feelings. 


28 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


There were in the Coliseum, witnessing its cruel games, 
senators who could sit with honour in the British 
Parliament; poets who would return to their homes 
immediately after the games, and write on scented 
tablets thrilling accounts of those exciting scenes, with 
the same hand that had applauded an assassination. 
There were fathers of families, who would cry out voci¬ 
ferously that the wounded gladiator should be struck 
again,, and his dying frame be hacked and cut to pieces 
by his triumphant opponent, and in the afternoon would 
nurse their children with all the tenderness of paternal 
love. Then there was the tender, loving, sympathising 
nature of womanhood, blasted by the sight and thirst of 
blood ; the noble lady and the vestal virgin, clothed in 
white and crowned with flowers, became furies in the 
theatre, and turned down the jewelled thumb for the 
murder of some fallen victim ; yet one felt all the enno¬ 
bling ties of a wife, a mother, and a friend, and the other 
pretended to cultivate the Christian virtue of chastity, 
Alas ! in this we see human nature without Christianity. 
They were the victims of paganism, that terrible slavery 
in which the nations of the earth were held captive before 
the coming of the Liberator of mankind. We can easily 
cast a link of union between the impieties and horrid 
cruelties of the pagan past and the heart-rending and in¬ 
human scenes of those pagan and infidel nations which 
are yet buried in the darkness of the shadow of death. 
We can pass in imagination from the carnage and blood¬ 
shed of the Coliseum, the merciless massacre of women 
and children and unarmed captives, whose cries for mercy 
were the music of a Roman triumph, to the inhuman 
customs of those nations who expose their infants on 


THE CHRISTIANS. 


-7 


the banks of the mountain torrents, destroy their old 
men, and cast living victims under the wheels of the 
triumphant car of their idols, or to the bivouac of the 
wild savages of Dahomey sitting in brutal glee around 
a blazing fire, consuming their meal of human flesh. 

But a new era has dawned upon the earth. In the 
illumination of that creed which pagan Rome vainly en¬ 
deavoured to crush in the Coliseum, we read a solution to 
this terrible enigma of life. They knew nothing of the 
sublime morality of Him who has said, “ By this shall all 
men know that you are my disciples, if you have love 
one for another.’* The dark cloud of primeval guilt hung 
over the world for four thousand years, and paganism, 
idolatry, and all their concomitant absurdities were the 
offspring of that first sin. But when the time decreed 
by God for the regeneration of man had come, the new 
state of things did not break on the world like the sun¬ 
shine bursting from the cloud. It pleased Almighty God 
that His kingdom should fight its own way and win its 
own dynasty ; He sent forth His Apostles to the world to 
overcome it by the invisible arms of faith. They attacked 
and conquered it. For four centuries the battle raged ; 
paganism had nothing but its cruelties and its horrors 
to stem the invisible power of the unarmed Apostles, and 
the powers of darkness quailed in the presence of the 
indestructible strength of the followers of Christ. But 
many a noble victim must fall before the victory is gained, 
and streams of nobler blood than that of beasts and gla¬ 
diators must dye the arena of the Coliseum. 

Another species of amusement must be added to those 
already enumerated. About eight hundred years after 
the building of Rome, there appeared a new race of 


28 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


beings who were to furnish a fresh feast to the cruelty 
and depravity of the people. They were men who sought 
no arms to fight, and showed no fear to die. After wit¬ 
nessing the courageous combats of the armed gladiators 
madly fighting for their lives, the strength and agility of 
the hunters, the pitiful looks and trembling limbs of the 
unarmed wretches who were exposed to die without even 
a chance of self-defence, it was a strange and unusual 
sight to see men walking into the arena with a fearless 
step and joyful brow, their eyes raised towards heaven, 
where they seemed to contemplate brilliant scenes of 
glory, bravely and intrepidly announcing the religion of 
the crucified God. These were men who belonged to the 
detestable sect which had come from Judea; they were 
the contemners of the gods of the Empire—they were 
Christians. Not the friendless captives from Thrace or 
Gaul, nor wretched slaves whose lives were the property 
of their masters, but some of the noblest families of the 
state, and some of them members of the imperial house¬ 
hold itself. Instead of the brawny and. stalwart frame 
of the hardy gladiator, it is the tender virgin in the bloom 
of girlhood that is now to face the fury of the lion. 
Triumphs of another kind will startle the enthusiasm of 
the crowded seats, and the wildest animals of the foi«e$t 
and the desert will crouch at the feet of the martyrs of 
Christ. 



CHAPTER V. 

THE FIRST MARTYR OF THE COLISEUM. 

S HE ruins of the burnt city were still smoking on the 
Palatine and Esquiline hills when Nero conceived 
the idea of satiating the rage of the people by the 
blood of the Christians. That monster, whose name is 
associated with everything cruel and impious, was the 
first Roman Emperor to decree a persecution against the 
unoffending servants of God. The edicts were issued ; 
the cry on every side was the extermination of Christ¬ 
ianity. The whole pagan world rose in arms against it. 
No sooner were the terrible decrees promulgated through¬ 
out the Empire, than the people seemed possessed with 
demons, for they rushed with inhuman fury against the 
innocent and defenceless followers of the Crucified. The 
frenzied resolve to root out and exterminate the Christ¬ 
ians began with Rome and diffused itself through every 
province and city of the Empire. Members of the 
same community, and even the same family, became the 
informers and the executioners of each other. In these 
pages are recorded two or three instances where fathers 
have tried in vain, by every species of torture and punish¬ 
ment, to shake the constancy of their tender and innocent 
children. In every town and village unrestricted license 


30 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


was given to the magistrates to plunder, to imprison, to 
torture and destroy the Christians ; and these petty offi¬ 
cers, in their turn, delegated their power to the most 
menial and cruel wretches in their pay. The same has 
happened in our own times in China and Japan. 

“ It was moreover proclaimed,” says a holy martyr 
quoted by St. Eusebius, “ that no one should have any 
care or pity for us, but that all persons should so think 
of and behave themselves towards us as if we were no 
longer men.” 

These horrors did not cease with the tyrants who 
commenced them. For three hundred years the powers 
of hell continued this war against the Church with more or 
less fury, rising and falling like the swells of the ocean ; 
at one time pouring down with all the thunder and foam 
of the billows in the storm, then calm and tranquil as a 
lake. 

The great St. Basil, writing of the persecution of Dio¬ 
cletian, gives a general idea of what were the cruelties 
and horrors of those terrible times. 

“ The houses of the Christians were wrecked and laid 
in ruins, their goods became the prey of rapine, their 
bodies of the ferocious lictors, who tore them like wild 
beasts, dragging their matrons by the hair along the 
streets, callous alike to the claims of pity for the aged 
or of those still in tender years. The innocent were 
submitted to torments usually reserved only for the vilest 
criminals; the dungeons were filled with the inmates 
of Christian homes which now lay desolate; and the 
trackless deserts and the forest caves were crowded with 
fugitives, whose only crime was the worship of Jesus 
Christ. In these dark times the son betrayed his father, 


THE FIRST MARTYR OF THE COLISEUM . 31 


the father impeached his own offspring, the servant 
sought his master’s property by denouncing him, the 
brother sought the brother’s blood, for none of the claims 
or ties of humanity seemed any longer to be recognised, 
so completely had all been blinded as if by a demo¬ 
niacal possession. Moreover, the house of prayer was 
profaned by impious hands, the most holy altars were 
overturned; nor was there any offering of the clean 
oblation nor of incense; no place was left for the divine 
mysteries, all was profound tribulation, a sable darkness 
that shut out all comfort; the sacerdotal colleges were 
dispersed, no synod or council could meet for fear of the 
slaughter that raged on every side; but the demons 
celebrated their orgies and polluted all things by the 
smoke and gore of their victims.” 

The Catacombs are lasting memorials of these terrible 
times ; those gloomy caves and dark passages in the 
bowels of the earth are the most precious archives 
of the Church, for their rude slabs, with the palm and 
the crown, tell of nearly a million of martyrs. 

The Coliseum is another witness to the triumphs of 
the past. It sprung up amidst the horrors of persecution ; 
it became the battlefield where innocence and weakness 
fought with tyranny and guilt. The blood, the miracles, 
and the victories of the early Church have cast a hallowed 
reminiscence around this venerable ruin, that makes us 
approach it with a species of religious awe. Thousands 
of martyrs are supposed to have shed their blood in its 
arena, although certain records of all have not come 
down to us. Amongst these martyrs there were persons 
of every sex and position of life : there were princes of 
royal blood, bishops, matrons advanced in age, maidens 


32 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


in the blush of youth and innocence, and children of the 
most tender years. Their courage, their meekness, 
their triumph over pain and death, was the eloquence 
that planted the cross that now casts its shadow across 
the desolate arena. The acts of the heroes of the 
Coliseum, such as are extant, form one of the most 
interesting and wonderful pages in the history of the 
early Church. They are beautiful, eloquent, and touch¬ 
ing, and set in striking contrast the strength, sublimity 
and magnificence of Christianity with the meanness, the 
weakness and stupidity of infidelity; they are incon- 
testible evidences of the divinity of the Church of God. 

But who was the first martyr of the Coliseum 1 The 
answer to this question will involve the answer to an¬ 
other, equally important. Who was it that designed and 
built this stupendous masterpiece of architecture 1 What 
great mind conceived this gigantic fabric, laid out all its 
proportions in their exquisite order and symmetry, raised 
arch on arch and tier upon tier, cut and hewed a moun¬ 
tain of travertine into the sublimest work of ancient art ? 
Does not all that is said of the splendid amphitheatre 
redound to the praise of some great man, from whose 
superior talent and skill it sprung into existence 1 Who 
was he, that we may raise his effigy on the altar of 
genius, and offer him the incense of our adulation and 
praise 1 

The architect of the Coliseum needs not the tinsel of 
human praise; yet let lovers of art breathe his name 
with reverence, for he was a Christian and a martyr. 

It is a strange fact that for nearly seventeen centuries 
the architect of the Coliseum was unknown. Certainly 
a building of such magnitude, comprising so many 


THE FIRST MARTYR OF THE COLISEUM . 33 


details and measurements, must have been the work of a 
superior mind. Every building of note reflects honour 
on its architect; the fame of the great builders of the 
monuments of the past is still bright on the pages of 
history, although the stupendous works of their genius 
have long since passed away. 

A learned historian of the last century,* writing in the 
Eternal City and under the shadow of the Coliseum itself, 
makes these beautiful remarks :—“ It is a thing worthy of 
reflection, that, notwithstanding the magnificence of 
this work, so excellent in its architecture, so admirable 
in its construction, and even judged by Martial to be 
more wonderful than all the wonders of the world, neither 
he nor any of the writers of the succeeding ages made 
mention of this great architect.” 

Martial, as is well known, was a Roman poet, who 
flourished in the reigns of Vespasian, Titus, and Domi- 
tian. He extols with pompous eulogiums the memory of 
Rabirius, for his skill in erecting a large addition to the 
palace of the Caesars during the reign of Domitian. He 
says this architect raised a palace that reached the skies, 
and reflected the glory of the stars; that his genius had 
penetrated the distant heavens, and drawn from the 
splendour of the celestial fabrics the magnificence and 
majesty of his design. “With how much more reason,” 
continues the writer just quoted, “ ought he not to im¬ 
mortalize the name and memory of the great architect of 
the Coliseum—a work far superior to the palace on the 
Palatine, and built by a man as celebrated, and as well 
known to Martial himself ? ” 

Martial did not make a mere casual and passing 


0 


• Marangoni. 


34 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


allusion to the Coliseum, he constituted himself itu 
panegyrist; his best poems are written on the horrors of 
the amphitheatre; yet, while he extols with bombastic 
praise the merits of the inferior architect who added a 
new wing to the golden house, he passes over in silence 
the name that should be written in letters of gold in his 
stanzas on the Coliseum. Is not this silence of Martial 
and of contemporary writers an enigma of history 1 

Seventeen centuries had passed over the imperishable 
walls of this stupendous monument of antiquity; tourists 
and strangers poured in from every point of the compass 
to gaze with wonder on the ruin, which in its very debris 
immortalized an unknown architect. In vain the lovers 
of the great past read over the ancient histories and 
records to find the name of this man j they pored over 
the effaced inscriptions and broken slabs of marble that 
still clung to the crumbling walls, hoping to find some 
passing encomium in his praise, but eternal oblivion 
would have shrouded his name had not an accidental 
discovery brought it to light. 

During some excavations that were made in the Cata¬ 
combs of St. Agnes, on the Nomentan way, a rude tomb 
was uncovered. It was enclosed by a marble slab bear¬ 
ing the crown and palm, and near it was the phial of 
blood, the unmistakable testimony of martyrdom. A 
rough inscription declared the praises of Gaudentius, 
the architect of the Coliseum. 

Here is the explanation of the strange silence of 
Martial and his contemporary pagan historians. Gaud¬ 
entius was a Christian, and a martyr; he belonged to 
that sect that was hated and persecuted by all the pow T er 
of the Empire; probably he was one of the first victims 


THE FIRST MARTYR OF THE COLISEUM. 35 


whose blood was shed in the arena of the amphitheatre. 
The Roman Emperor sought not only to annihilate 
Christianity, but to obliterate it from the memory of 
man; no public act was permitted in favour of the 
Christians; it was treason to harbour them, to extol 
them, or to imagine they were capable of anything great 
or noble. The sycophant poet, who sought but the 
smiles of Csesar, knew the theme that would please; he 
would not risk his life by expressing sympathy with the 
persecuted followers of the cross. Thus Gaudentius 
passed away without a monument; the timid friends 
who gathered together his sacred remains laid them in a 
martyr’s tomb, in the gloomy crypts of the Catacombs; 
and in the faint hope that posterity would one day 
recognise his genius and his talent, they rudely scratched 
on the marble slab that covered him the verses which 
declare him to be the architect of the Coliseum. 

Nor is it surprising that the remains of Gaudentius, as 
well as the remains of hundreds of other noble martyrs, 
were laid silently, and apparently without honour, in the 
dark recesses of the Catacombs. At a time when all was 
terror and confusion; when the trembling survivors 
could only gather the remains of their martyred friends 
by stealth and in the darkness of the night, there was no 
opportunity of recording their praises and their triumph 
in studied epitaphs or imperishable monuments. 

There are thousands of saints shining in the bright 
group clothed in white robes, and “following the Lamb 
whithersoever he goeth,” unknown to the Church militant 
except in name. Yet in the records of the Catacombs 
we meet now and then a few short but touching verses to 
declare the praises of some particular martyr; perhaps 


36 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


the rude composition of some surviving friend, chiselled 
on the hard stone by a delicate hand and traced under 
the dim light of an oil lamp. Such are the verses on the 
tomb of Gaudentius :— 


SIC PREMIA SERVAS VESPASIANE DIRE 
PREMIATVS ES MORTE GAVDENTI LETARE 
CIVITAS VBI GLORIE TVE AVTORI 
PROMISIT ISTE DAT KRISTVS OMNIA TIBI 
QVI ALIVM PARAVIT THEATRV IN CELO 

Here is a panegyric in a few words, but simple and 
sublime. It declares our hero to be the victim of gross 
ingratitude, and, although his genius had contributed to 
the glory of the city, his reward was a cruel death. The 
Christian who carved his epitaph seemed to console 
nimself with the glory and appreciation given to his friend 
in the other world. “ Caesar had promised three great 
rewards,” he seems to say, “ but false and ungrateful was 
the pagan; He who is the great architect of the heavens, 
and whose promises fail not, has prepared for thee in 
reward of thy virtue a place in the everlasting theatre of 
the celestial city.” 

At first sight these verses do not seem to possess all 
the importance we have attributed to them, but a mo¬ 
ment’s reflection will prove them to be one of the simplest 
records of the past. There was no other theatre built 
in the time of Vespasian but the Coliseum; it was the 
glory of the city , and is still so in its ruins. Vespasian 
did not persecute the Christians, yet there were martyrs 
in his reign ; the laws of Nero were unrepealed, and were 
still enforced with more or less violence in different parts 
of the Empire. We read of St. Apolinaris, Bishop of 
Ravenna, in the Roman martyrology under the 23rd of 



THE FIRST MARTYR OF THE COLISEUM. 37 


July, “qui sub Vespasiano Csesare gloriosum martyrium 
consummavit.” Eusebius, in his History of the Church 
(book iii., chap 15), as also Baronius (anno 74), assert 
that Vespasian raised a terrible persecution against the 
Jews ; he put to death all who said they were descendants 
of David. How amongst the Gentiles in those times 
Christians and Jews were considered the same. Dion 
Cassius says of Domitian that he put to death those 
“qui in mores Judseorum transierant” (lib, 47), that is, 
those who became Christians. Superficial readers are 
inclined to doubt of the inference drawn from this epitaph. 
A thousand questions may be asked, and many objections 
raised , but without entering into a tedious and perhaps 
uninteresting examination of the question, it will be 
sufficient to state that it is the received opinion of all 
modern antiquarians that this epitaph can refer only to 
the architect of the Coliseum. Amongst the authors 
who assert this opinion as beyond doubt are Arringhi, 
Nibbi, Rossi, Marangoni, and Mgr. Gerbet, &c. 

The slab which contains this inscription may be seen 
at present in the subterranean church of St. Martina in the 
Forum. Martina was one of the virgins exposed to the 
wild beasts in the Coliseum. The underground chapel 
is a gem of architecture, and is a lasting monument 
of the genius and munificence of Pietro da Cortona, who 
designed and built it himself. It is richly ornamented, 
and possesses many pieces of beautiful and rare marble. 
Amonst the ornaments which adorn its walls there is not 
one so interesting as the rude slab of Gaudentius. 

Of his life and the manner of his death nothing is 
known; his history, his martyrdom and his panegyric 
are all contained in this brief and obscure epitaph. The 


38 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


Church has emblazoned on her records in brilliant letters 
the names of those heroes whose talents or whose 
triumphs were the glory of the early ages, and amongst 
them may be recognised the architect of the greatest 
work of antiquity, the Christian and the martyr 
Gaudentius. 



CHAPTER VI. 

ST. IGNATIUS. 

S FTER the glorious transfiguration of our Blessed 
Lord on Thabor, He retired with his disciples to 
Galilee. Having foretold His passion and death, 
and prepared them for the awful scenes that were to come 
to pass in a few days, He commenced His last and memor¬ 
able journey to Jerusalem. His disciples followed Him 
at a short distance. On the road to Capharnaum they 
entered into conversation with each other, and disputed 
among themselves which of them should be the greatest. 
Their minds were not yet illumined by the light of the 
Holy Spirit, and they were yet ignorant of the sublime 
virtues of Christian morality. 

But Jesus knew what was passing amongst them. When 
they arrived at Capharnaum He entered a house and 
made the disciples sit around Him, and He commenced 
to teach them those beautiful lessons of humility which 
are the foundations of all true greatness. With love and 
kindness beaming in His countenance He asked them : 
“ What did you treat of in the way 1 But they held their 
peace.” 

A ray of light had penetrated their hearts as the words 
of Jesus entered their ears, and a blush was the acknow- 


40 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


ledgment of their pride. Near our Blessed Lord there 
stood a beautiful child—a bright-eyed little boy of four 
or five years of age, with golden hair falling in ringlets on 
his shoulders. He was the type of everything innocent 
and beautiful. Jesus called the child towards Him, and 
having impressed a kiss on his little forehead, He placed 
him before His disciples, and in the sweet tones of His 
heavenly voice said to them : “Amen I say to you, unless 
you be converted, and become as little children, you 
shall not enter the kingdom of heaven. Whosoever 
therefore shall humble himself as this little child, he is 
the greater in the kingdom of heaven” (Matt, xviii. 3). 

That child was Ignatius ! * That infant that was em¬ 
braced by Jesus Christ, and proposed in its innocence as 
a model of everything that was truly great, was in after 
years the great Bishop of Antioch, who was devoured by 
the wild beasts in the Coliseum. 

We know nothing of the early life of St. Ignatius. He 
appears on the page of history as the Bishop of Antioch. 
St. Peter had first established his see in this city, which 
was at that time one of the largest in the Roman Em¬ 
pire, and here ruled the infant Church of Christ for six 
years. In the year 44 he came to Rome. In the very 
heart and centre of Paganism he erected the indestructi¬ 
ble throne of the Papacy, which is to last until the end of 
time. St. Evodius succeeded him in the see of Antioch, 
and after him came Ignatius. Our Saint was a disciple 

* This circumstance, although mentioned by some ancient writers, 
has no historical confirmation beyond a constant and pious tradition. 
We do not give it as a certainty, but have introduced it as an inter¬ 
esting introduction to the Acts of this great martyr, which are un¬ 
doubtedly genuine. 


ST. IGNATIUS. 


41 


of the glorious Apostle himself and of St. John. He had 
learned from these able masters the sublime science of 
the love of God, which made him one of the pillars and 
ornaments of the early Church. After the Apostles them¬ 
selves, he was one of the most remarkable men in the 
Church ; his contemporary and the fathers who lived in 
the three succeeding centuries mention his name with the 
greatest reverence. St. Poly carp and St. Chrysostom 
have made him the subject of their most eloquent pane¬ 
gyrics. After a life of more than fifty years in the epis¬ 
copate of Antioch, the Almighty was pleased to call him 
to his crown, by a death that should be a glory and a model 
to the Church. The history of his labours and his vir¬ 
tues is not written, but all the particulars of his death 
were recorded by eye-witnesses, and distributed through 
the various churches; hence his Acts are the most au¬ 
thentic in the history of the past. The original docu¬ 
ment, written in Greek, is still preserved, and was pub¬ 
lished by Ruinart in Paris in 1690. 

The scene of his martyrdom opens, according to the 
best authority, in the year of our Lord 107. Trajan 
held the sceptre of the Caesars and St. Evaristus sat in the 
chair of Peter. The storm that attacked the Church 
during the reign of Domitian was subsiding. Historians 
tell us that Trajan did not naturally love bloodshed, and 
had a nobler sentiment of humanity than any Emperor 
who had preceded him, but he was a coward and a slave 
to public opinion. He stifled his own feelings to pander 
to the brutal tastes of the mob ; to gain popularity, and 
under pretence of devotion to the gods of the Empire, he 
continued from time to time the horrible scenes of per¬ 
secution against the unoffending Christians. St. Ignatius 
was one of his victims. 


42 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM 


In the eighth year of his reign Trajan had gained a 
glorious victory over Decebalus, the king of the Dacians, 
and annexed all his territory to the Eoman Empire. 
The following year he set out on an expedition against 
the Parthians and Armenians, the allies of the conquered 
Dacians. Having arrived at Antioch, he threatened with 
the severest penalties all who would not sacrifice to the 
gods. The labours and preaching of the venerable bishop 
of this city were so crowned with success, that the 
Church was flourishing, and was no longer a despicable 
community of a few individuals. The pagans saw the 
Christians increase around them with an evil eye, and 
availed themselves of the presence of the Emperor to 
call for their extermination. “ The magnanimous 
champion of Jesus Christ,” says the Acts of the Saint, 
“ fearful lest his Church should become a scene of hor¬ 
rible slaughter, voluntarily gave himself into their hands, 
that they might satiate their fury on him, but save his 
flock.” 

He was immediately brought before the Emperor and 
accused of being the head and promoter of Christianity 
in the city. Trajan, assuming a haughty and contem¬ 
ptuous tone, addressed the aged bishop, who stood fear¬ 
lessly before him, in these words : “Who are you, impious 
and evil spirit, that dare not only to transgress our orders, 
but exert yourself to bring others with you to a miserable 
end % ” 

The Saint meekly replied, “ Impious and wicked spirits 
belong to Hell, they have nothing to do with the Chris¬ 
tians ; you cannot call me impious and wicked whilst I 
carry the true God in my heart; the demons tremble 
at the very presence of the servants of the God whom 


ST. IGNATIUS. 


43 


we adore. I possess Jesus Christ, who is the univer¬ 
sal and celestial Lord, and King of all things, by His 
grace I can trample on all the power of the infernal 
spirits.” 

“ And who is he,” asked Trajan, “ who possesses and 
carries his God in his heart ” 

“ Every one who believes in Jesus Christ and serves 
him faithfully,” replied the Saint. 

“ Do you not believe then that we also carry our im¬ 
mortal gods within us 1 Do you not see how they favour 
us with their aid, and what great and glorious victories 
we have gained over our enemies ? ” 

“ You are deceived,” replied Ignatius, majestically, “ in 
calling those things that you adore gods ; they are ac¬ 
cursed spirits, they are the demons of Hell; the true 
God is only one, and it was He tl^at created the heavens, 
the earth, and the sea, and everything that exists; and 
one only is Jesus Christ, the only begotten Son of the 
most High, and Him I humbly pray to bring me one day 
to the.possession of His everlasting kingdom.” 

“ Who is this Jesus Christ thou hast named 1 Is it He 
who was put to death by Pontius Pilate V } 

“ It is of Him I speak,” replied Ignatius; “ He who 
was nailed to the cross, who destroyed my sin and the 
inventor of sin, and by His death places under the feet 
of those who devoutly carry Him in their hearts all the 
power and malice of the demon,” 

“ Do you then carry within you this crucified J esus %** 
asked the Emperor, with a sarcastic smile. 

“ It is so,” answered Ignatius ; “for He tells us in His 
holy Scripture, will dwell in them , and walk among 
them’" (2 Cor. vi. 16.) 


44 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


For a moment Trajan was silent, conflicting thoughts 
passing through his mind. He was urged by curiosity 
to hear more of the religion of the Christians, and, struck 
by the venerable appearance of the servant of Christ, he 
could have almost sent him back to his people with a 
slight reprimand , but the demon of pride and infidelity 
sprang up in his heart, and reminded him that any parti¬ 
ality towards the hated sect would be a sign of weakness, 
a loss of popularity, and a want of piety to the gods. 
Further hesitation would betray the false zeal of his 
hypocritical heart, and standing on his throne he pro¬ 
nounced this sentence against the holy bishop :— 

We command that Ignatius, who says he carries with 
him the crucified Jesus, be brought in chains to the great 
city of Rome, and amidst the games of the amphitheatre, 
as a pleasing spectacle to the Roman people, be made the 
food of wild beasts.” 

When Ignatius heard this sentence he threw himself 
on his knees, and, stretching his arms towards heaven, 
cried out in an ecstacy of joy : “0 Lord, I thank Thee 
that Thou hast deigned to honour me with the most pre¬ 
cious sign of Thy charity, and hast permitted that I should 
be chained for Thy love as was the Apostle Paul.” He 
remained in the same position, his arms lifted up, his 
eyes fixed on heaven; he seemed to catch a glimpse of 
those ineffable joys he so ardently desired, and which he 
was soon to enjoy. He was startled from his reverie by 
the rough grasp of one of the soldiers, who seized his 
feeble hands, and placed them in the manacles of a crimi¬ 
nal ; his crime was, “ he carried within him Jesus cruci¬ 
fied.” He made no resistance ; but full of joy, and pray¬ 
ing for his poor flock, he moved away with his guards to 


ST. IGNATIUS. 


45 


one of the cells of the public prisons, to wait his depar¬ 
ture for .Rome. A crowd of people had gathered around 
the court-yard of the governor’s palace, in which the 
Emperor resided; when they saw the venerable bishop 
chained and condemned to death, a murmur of pity- 
broke from every lip ; amongst them there was many a 
wet eye and a suppressed sob ; they were Christians who 
saw their beloved bishop and father rudely dragged away 
to an ignominious death. 

St. John Chrysostom considers with much eloquence 
and piety why Ignatius was taken to Rome for his execu¬ 
tion. The martyrs were generally ordered from the tri¬ 
bunal to the scaffold, and even more frequently became 
the victims of the impotent rage of the defeated tyrants, 
and were tortured and put to death in the very court of 
justice itself. But Trajan was not of a brutal disposi¬ 
tion, and -would have suspended the persecution against 
the Christians, were it not that he feared the indignation 
of the people. When he ordered the aged bishop to be 
taken to Rome and exposed to the beasts before tens of 
thousands of spectators, it was that the whole Empire 
might praise his zeal in the service of the gods, and that 
the people might be deterred from embracing Christianity 
by witnessing the terrible fate of its leaders. But divine 
Providence, which can draw good from the evil actions 
of men, destined this journey for the edification of the 
Church and for the salvation of innumerable souls. The 
constancy, the piety and eloquence of the martyr on his 
way to death, scattered far and wide the sublime truths 
of the divine law ; he poured out from his own heart the 
fire of charity which burned within it; the Christians 
were animated to new fervour wherever he went, and 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


many infidels recognised in the venerable prelate a reflec¬ 
tion of the divinity of the gospel he preached, and, abjur¬ 
ing the false gods of paganism, became children of the 
Church. 

During liis journey to Koine, his happiness and peace 
of mind were beyond description. Every day his desire 
for martyrdom increased. He was taken from Antioch 
to Seleucia, and there embarked for Smyrna. They landed 
safely after a long and painful voyage, and St. Ignatius 
endeavoured immediately on landing to have an interview 
with the holy Bishop St. Polycarp, who was his fellow 
disciple under the great Apostle St. John. By the exer¬ 
tions of the Christians who accompanied him, who pro¬ 
bably bribed his guards, this privilege was given him, 
and he spent some days with St. Polycarp. 

The student of ecclesiastical history will find, perhaps, 
at first sight, some difficulty in bringing into the same 
page the remarkable names of John, Ignatius and Poly¬ 
carp. St. John was the beloved disciple who leaned on 
the bosom of our Blessed Lord; St. Ignatius was mar¬ 
tyred in 107, and St. Polycarp is generally supposed to 
have suffered martyrdom towards the end of the year 
169. St. Ignatius was bishop before St. Polycarp was 
born, yet they were both disciples of St. John. These 
facts are easily reconciled. St. John lived to the age of 
one hundred and one years. He consecrated Poly carp 
Bishop of Smyrna about the year 90 of our Lord, before 
he had the mysterious visions of the Apocalypse in the 
Isle of Patmos. He dwelt for some years in Asia Minor, 
and must have been frequently in the city of Antioch 
whilst Ignatius was its bishop. Moreover, in the first 
century, those who could consult with the Apostles by 


ST. IGNATIUS. 


47 


letters, or by interview, on doubts that would arise con¬ 
nected with the discipline or teaching of the Church, 
were called disciples of the Apostles. In either of those 
cases, then, Ignatius and Poly carp were fellow-disciples of 
St. John. 

From the abode of St. Polycarp, St. Ignatius wrote 
some beautiful and sublime letters, begging the Chris¬ 
tians in the different churches, especially at Pome, not to 
prevent his martyrdom. Not that the Christians were 
accustomed to rescue the martyrs from the hands of the 
tyrants by physical force, but Ignatius well knew they 
had weapons more powerful than armies set in battle 
array ; it was the invisible, the irresistible, the all-power¬ 
ful weapon of prayer. By this the rage of the tyrants 
was baffled, and death itself defied ; and Ignatius besought 
them with all the fervour of his heart to let him have 
his crown, and pass away now in his old age from a 
weary life of trial to the ineffable bliss of the celestial 
kingdom. The Christians consented, and the martyr 
won his crown. 

“ I have at length gained from Almighty God,” he 
writes in his letter to the Romans, “ that which I have 
so long desired, to come and see you who are the true 
servants of God; and more than this I hope to gain 
from His mercy. I come to you chained for the love of 
Jesus Christ, and so chained, I hope to arrive soon in 
your city to receive your embraces and my long-sighed- 
for end. Things have commenced auspiciously, and I 
sincerely pray to the Lord to remove every impediment 
or delay to the glorious end He seems to have destined 
for me j but alas ! a terrible fear damps my hopes, and 
you, my brethren, are the cause of this fear—I fear your 


48 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


charity will stand between me and my crown. If you 
wish to prevent me from receiving the crown of martyr¬ 
dom, it will be easy for you to do it, but sad and painful 
to me will be that kindness which will deprive me of an 
opportunity of thus laying down my life, which may never 
come again. In permitting me to go quietly to my end, 
you aid me in that which is most dear to me ; but, if, in 
your misguided charity, you wish to save me, you will 
stand like the most cruel enemies in the very portals of 
heaven, and fling me back into the deep and tempestuous 
sea of life, to be tossed again on its billows of sorrow. 
If you love me with true charity you will allow me to 
mount the altar of sacrifice, you yourselves will gather 
around and sing hymns of thanksgiving to the Eternal 
Father, and to Jesus Christ, that He has brought, from 
the East to the West, from Smyrna to Rome, the Bishop 
of Antioch, to make him the confessor of His great name, 
His victim and His holocaust. Oh ! how happy and 
blessed our lot, to die to this world, to live eternally in 
God ! ” 

In another portion of his letter he uses these sublime 
and touching words :—“ Let me be the food of the 
beasts ; let me come thus to the possession of God. I 
am the wheat of Jesus Christ; I must therefore be 
ground and broken by the teeth of wild beasts, that I 
may become His pure and spotless bread. Caress those 
animals that will soon be my honoured sepulchre. I de¬ 
sire and pray God that they may not*leave anything of 
me on the earth, that, when my spirit will have flown to 
eternal rest, my body may not be an inconvenience to 
any one. Then shall I be a true disciple of Jesus Christ, 
when the world can see no more of me. Oh ! pray to 


ST. IGNATIUS. 


49 


Him that this may he the case, that I may he consumed 
by the beasts, and be the victim of His love. It is to 
solicit your aid that I write to you. I do not send you 
commandments and precepts as St. Peter and St. Paul. 
They 'were Apostles, I am but a miserable criminal; they 
were free, I am a worthless slave; but if I suffer mar¬ 
tyrdom I shall be free. Now that I am in chains for 
Jesus Christ, I recognise the vanity of all worldly things, 
and have learned to despise them. In the journey I 
have made from Syria up to this, by land and by sea, by 
day and by night, I have fought and still fight with ten 
fierce leopards who press on me from every side; they 
are the ten soldiers who keep me in chains and are my 
guard, who even become worse and more cruel from the 
benefits they receive ; but these things are to me lessons 
of the sublimest character, yet I am not perfect.” (See 
Acta Sincera, Ruinarb, vol. i. etc.) 

Whilst the letters of St. Ignatius excite the deepest 
sentiments of devotion in the heart, they bring tears of 
pity to our eyes. That he suffered much in his long and 
tedious journey to Rome, there can be no doubt. That 
journey must have lasted more than six months; his let¬ 
ter from Smyrna is dated the 24th of August, and he was 
not martyred until the 20th of December. Having ar¬ 
rived in Greece, they crossed overland through Macedo¬ 
nia, and set sail again from Epidamus for Italy. They 
crossed the Adriatic and came round the southern shores 
of Italy to the western coast. Passing the city of Poz- 
zuoli, the Saint was very anxious to land there in order 
to go to Rome by the same road that St. Paul had passed 
over many years beiore. But a fair wind sprung up and 
all sail was made ior the port of Ostia. “ For a day and 
D 


50 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


a night/’ say the Christians who accompanied St. Ignatius 
and wrote the acts of his martyrdom, “ we had this fa¬ 
vourable wind. To us, indeed, it was a source of great 
sorrow, because it would oblige us sooner to separate 
from the company of this holy man, but to him it caused 
greater joy and happiness, as it brought him nearer his 
wished-for end.” They arrived at Ostia just before the 
termination of the annual games of the kalends of Janu¬ 
ary. These games were called sigillaria, and were the 
most popular and best attended. The soldiers, wishing 
to arrive in Rome before their termination, hurried on 
from Ostia without any delay. Many of the Christians 
heard of his arrival, and went to meet him somewhere 
near the spot where now stands the superb Church of 
St. Paul. He was hailed with mingled sentiments of joy 
and sorrow ; some were delighted to see the venerable 
confessor of the Church and receive his last blessing, whilst 
others wept aloud that so great a man was to be taken 
from them by an ignominious death. He consoled them 
by the joy of his own heart, and begged of them again 
not to prevent his sacrifice by their prayers. Having 
arrived near the gates, they all fell on their knees and 
received his last solemn benediction. 

It was the morning of the 20th of December, A.D. 107. 
The sun had already risen high in the heavens, and was 
pouring its golden flood of splendour over the city. The 
body of soldiers, and the aged bishop in chains, entered 
that gate through which had often rolled the stream of 
triumph, and through which had been dragged many a 
poor captive from the East, to be slaughtered on the 
Capitol as the climax to the glory of barbarian triumph. 
Ignatius had longed from his childhood to see the great 


ST. IGNATIUS. 


51 


metropolis of the Empire, and now it burst on him with 
dazzling splendour ; it was a forest of temples and tombs 
and mansions, of snowy whiteness that seemed imperish¬ 
able. But his eyes were dimmed with tears ; his heart 
was crushed with sorrow at the awful darkness that 
brooded over the mighty city :; the splendour and mag¬ 
nificence of its monuments of marble and gold were but 
the decorations of a mighty tomb. With his arms folded 
on his breast he prayed that the sun of eternal justice 
might one day rise over that benighted city; that the 
blood of so many martyrs spilt on its soil might fructify 
into saints, the fruit of that blood which was not shed in 
vain on Calvary. While Ignatius was rapt in prayer, 
a short turn in the road brought them in sight of the 
mighty Coliseum, the gorgeous remnant of the gilded 
palace of Nero, which crowned the Palatine, and in the 
distance the lofty temples of the Capitol; at the same 
moment they heard the thunder of some thousands of 
voices, mingled with the roar of lions and wild beasts. 
Some gladiator had fallen in the amphitheatre, and the 
brutal populace were cheering the fatal stroke that felled 
him; the animals were startled in their dungeons, and 
the earth seemed to tremble under the horrible chorus 
of men and beasts. A few moments and Ignatius had 
arrived under the massive walls of the Coliseum. But let 
us go before him and take our seat on one of its benches 
to witness the terrible scenes that are to follow. 

We have but cast one glance around the great amphi¬ 
theatre, and it would take volumes to describe all we see. 
Immensity and art, beauty and comfort, mingle with the 
rays of light that bring the first impressions—the motley 
thousands that fill every available seat, the rainbow of 


52 THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 

colours, softened by the purple awning, enriched by the 
brilliant mail of the soldiers, and everything that gold 
and silver can lend to dazzle the eye. The Emperor’s 
throne is on a raised dais, with crimson canopy, and 
is gorgeously conspicuous. He himself is away in the 
hardships of the camp, but his place is filled by the 
prefect of the city, a worthless wretch, whose god is the 
will of his master. Around are the editors of the games, 
the Arval brothers, and the Vestal Virgins, and in the first 
cycle of the benches all the wealth and grandeur of the 
city; the order above them are dressed in beautiful white 
mantles; they are the equestrians. Then the immense 
platform, or gallery of the people, amongst whom are 
wooden benches for the women, obliged, by law, to be 
alone and removed at a distance through modesty from 
the scenes of nakedness and cruelty that pass in the 
arena. Among the people there were envoys from every 
country the Roman eagle flew over, and in every variety 
of colour and costume. There were the hardy race from 
the icy north, with snow-white features and brown locks, 
side by side with the swarthy Arab and curly-headed 
Ethiopian; there is the inhabitant from the depths of 
Egypt, who drinks water from the cataracts of the Nile, 
beside the Sarmatian,who slakes his thirst with the blood 
of his horses. 

** Quae tam seposita est, quae gens tam barbara, Caesar, 

Ex qua spectator non sit in urbe tua !”—Martial. 

The confusion of the voices is like the murmur of the 
mighty deep. It would seem as if the sovereignty of the 
people, banished from the Forum, had taken refuge in the 
amphitheatre, and vindicated with deafening shouts its 


ST. IGNATIUS. 


53 


liberty to insult and abuse. In vain do we imagine 
ourselves beings of the past, to paint the scenes of the 
Coliseum in the days of its glory ! We have nothing in 
the range of our experience to compare to its 100,0.00 
spectators gloating on scenes of bloodshed and murder. 

A rumour has passed through them that one of the 
heads of the Christians has been brought from Syria and 
condemned by orders of the Emperor to be exposed to 
the beasts ; a wild frenzy starts from bench to bench, 
the whole amphitheatre rises and sends forth a universal 
shout for the Christians to be cast to the lions. The 
loudest applause of our greatest theatres is but the gen¬ 
tle zephyr of a breeze compared to the yells of fiendish 
rage with which the Romans called for the extermination 
of the followers of the crucified Galilean ; like the 
thunder of the Alpine avalanche echoing through the 
hills, the mighty wave of human voices roll through the 
marble palaces and monuments of that city which was, in 
the grand designs of Providence, to become the very heart 
and centre of Christianity itself. 

Suddenly a dead calm reigns over the living mass, 
every eye is fixed on the eastern gate; the soldiers are 
leading a feeble old man into the arena; his silvery locks 
have been whitened with the snows of over a hundred 
winters ; his gait is firm, his aspect cheerful; never was 
a more venerable victim dragged across the sand of that 
blood-stained arena. He is conducted to the foot of the 
imperial gallery ; the president having heard of his long 
journey from the East, and struck with his venerable 
appearance and age, seemed to feel a sentiment of pity, 
and addressed him in these words :—“ I wonder you are 
still alive after all the hunger and sufferings you have 


54 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


already endured; now, at least consent to offer sacrifice to 
the gods, that you may be delivered from the dreadful 
death that threatens you, and save us from the sorrow of 
having to condemn you.” 

Ignatius, drawing himself up with majesty, and cast¬ 
ing a look of scorn on the representative of the Emperor, 
said:— 

“ By your bland words you wish to deceive and destroy 
me. Know that this mortal life has no attraction for me; 
I wish to go to Jesus, who is the bread of immortality and 
the drink of eternal life ; I live entirely for Him, and my 
soul yearns for Him. I despise all your torments, and 
I cast at your feet your proffered liberty.” 

The president, enraged at the bold language of the 
Saint, said in a haughty tone : “ Since this old man is so 
proud and contemptuous, let him be bound, and let loose 
two lions to devour him.” 

Ignatius smiled with joy. Having made an act of 
thanksgiving in his heart and breathed an ejaculation for 
strength, he addressed the assembly in these words :— 
“ Romans who witness my death, do not think I am con¬ 
demned on account of any crime or bad action ; it is per¬ 
mitted that I may come to God, whom I desire with an 
insatiable desire; I am His corn, and must be ground 
under the teeth of the beasts to become for Him a pure 
and white bread.”* Having said this, he fell on his 
knees and crossed his arms on his breast, and with eyes 
raised to heaven he waited calmly and resignedly the 
moment that should set him free from the troubles of 

* These words were used by him in one of his letters, but ac¬ 
cording to his Acts they were used a second time by the Saint in 
the Coliseum itself. 


ST. IGNATIUS. 


55 


life and send his soul on its flight to eternity. Another 
moment and the small gates of the subterranean passages 
are opened and two lions bound into the arena. 

A terrible silence reigns through the amphitheatre— 
they advance—but enough, let the imagination fill up 
the harrowing details. The martyr is gone to his crown. 
We can but transcribe the brief touching words of his 
Acts—“ His prayer was heard, the lions left nothing but 
the harder bones of his body.” 

Night has crept over the city, and the Coliseum is as 
silent as a tomb. By the faint light of the moon we see 
three men stealing cautiously under the shadow of the 
mighty arches; they move hurriedly across the arena. 
Near the centre, and on the side of the Emperor’s seat, 
they go on their knees, and spreading a white napkin, they 
put into it some sand stained with blood and some 
bones ; they take them away with them and disappear 
in the darkness of the night. They are the Christians 
Carus, Philon and Agathophus, who have accompanied 
Ignatius from Antioch, and are securing the relics of 
their beloved bishop. 

Near the Coliseum there was a house much venerated 
and frequented by the Christians. It was the house of 
Clement, one of the Flavian family, a disciple of St. Peter, 
and his third successor. Here they bring the relics of 
the martyr, and according to the custom, they made a 
temporary altar in one of the most spacious rooms and 
left the sacred deposit exposed the whole night amidst 
burning torches. The Christians, many of whom were 
present at his martyrdom in the amphitheatre, gathered 
from every side of the city and passed the night in prayer. 
During the night the Saint appeared to them. “ A gentle 


56 THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 

sleep seemed to steal over us,” say the above-named 
Christians, who wrote his Acts, 44 and suddenly we saw the 
holy martyr, who lovingly embraced us; he seemed to be 
praying for us, and was covered with sweat as if he had 
just come from a great battle, and then he passed into 
the glory of the Lord, where he will rest for ever. When 
we saw this consoling vision our joy was ineffable, and 
having awakened we spoke over the vision which we all 
saw, and gave thanks without end to God, the great 
Giver of all good gifts, who brought to eternal happiness 
the glorious martyr Ignatius.” (Ruinart, vol. i. chap. 
10. &c.) 

His relics were brought from the house of Clement to 
Antioch, and were placed in a beautiful shrine outside the 
Porta Daphnitica ; but in the arrangements of Providence 
they were brought back again to Rome, and laid in pre¬ 
cisely the same spot where they were venerated by the 
Romans the night after his martyrdom. When Antioch 
fell into the power of the Saracens, under Heraclius, the 
Christians brought some of their most precious treasures 
to Rome, and amongst them the relics of St. Ignatius. A 
few years past, the learned and enterprising prior of the 
Irish Dominican Convent, now in care of the Church of 
St. Clement in Rome, was making excavations beneath 
the more modern church, probably of the twelfth century, 
and discovered not only the original basilica of the fourth 
century, but also the relics of St. Ignatius. They were 
carried in a gorgeous procession from the obscure sepul¬ 
chre around the arena of the Coliseum, where, seventeen 
centuries before, he had suffered, and were reposited 
under the high altar of the Basilica. 

There is a tradition, mentioned by Socrates in his 


ST. IGNATIUS. 


67 


Ecclesiastical History, that it was St. Ignatius who first 
introduced the custom of alternating the Psalms in choir; 
—it is said he had a vision in which he saw the angels 
thus singing the praises of God, and that he introduced 
it into the Church ; but the tradition seems not to have 
sufficient historic authority. 

Although St. Ignatius is the first mentioned in history 
to have suffered in the Coliseum, yet we have every reason 
to believe that there were many both before and after his 
time that were exposed to wild beasts in the same place, 
of whom no records have reached us. The Coliseum was 
at the time of his death twenty-seven years in use; the 
persecution of the Christians was raging with more or 
less violence during this time, and we have records of 
Christians having been exposed to the wild beasts in 
other amphitheatres of the empire. We read of a St. 
Tecla under Nero, exposed in the amphitheatre of Lyca- 
onia. She is supposed to have been the first female 
martyr. Accilio Glabrione, who was consul under 
Domitian (a.d. 93), had to fight with a lion in the amphi¬ 
theatre of Albano. The servant of God bravely killed 
the lion, but was afterwards martyred by the tyrant in 
Rome. Although the authenticated list of those who 
suffered in the Coliseum of Rome is small, yet we have 
every reason to presume that thousands.were sent to 
heaven of whom we have no record. The last and ter¬ 
rible day, which will unveil for man the past and the 
future, will find among the peerless choirs of martyrs 
many a triumphant soul who fought in the arena of the 
Coliseum, whose names we have not been able to honour 
in the brief sketches of these pages.* . 

* St. Ignatius is commemorated in the Martyrology on the 1st 
February. 



CHAPTER VII. 

THE ROMAN GENERAL. 

L 

vjT§) EFORE introducing to our reader the extraordinary 
jyp) records that have come down to us regarding the 
great St. Eustachius and his martyred family, it may 
be well to contemplate for a moment a grand and consol¬ 
ing feature of triumph which Almighty God vouchsafed 
to His servants in the days of persecution. Although 
hundreds of martyrs have gone to heaven from the arena 
of the Coliseum, yet few have been killed by the wild 
beasts. T 1 is strange fact is a beam of sunshine amid all 
its horrors of cruelty and bloodshed. He who knew how 
to change the ferocious nature of those animals which 
prowl through their native mountains and deserts in 
search of food, so that they became the protectors and 
even companions of His hermits and solitaries, made 
them (instead of being the instruments of the most awful 
death) the defenders of the chastity of His virgins, and 
the witnesses of the sanctity of His saints. The great 
Creator of all things intended the dumb animal to be 
the servant of mat), and, with a few exceptions, He 
refused to allow it to be the executioner of the innocent. 


THE ROMAN GENERAL. 


59 


One of the most consoling pages in the history of these 
terrible times, is the oft-repeated miracle of Daniel in 
the lion’s den; not, however, in the silence and darkness 
of the gloomy cavern into which the youthful prophet 
was cast, hut under the noon-day sun, in the great am¬ 
phitheatre of the capital of the world, and before 100,000 
spectators. Miracles have been destined by God to be 
the handmaids of truth and the medium of conviction. 
In the visible interposition of His power in preserving 
His servants from the fury of the beasts in the Coliseum, 
He presented to the pagans of Rome an incontestable 
proof of the divinity of Christianity, and a mercy they 
knew not how to appreciate. If the old walls of the 
Coliseum could speak, they would tell us some consoling 
scenes of the triumph of the martyrs and their wonderful 
preservation. St. Eusebius, who was eye-witness to 
some of those terrible scenes, describes with eloquence 
and feeling how the furious wild beasts were unable to 
harm the Christians, and would turn on the pagans with 
destructive rage. “ Sometimes,” he says, “jthey rushed 
on the‘naked and defenceless champions of Christ, but 
checked as if by some divine power, they returned to 
their dens. This happened repeatedly, and excited the 
wonder of the spectators ; at their demand the first wild 
beast having been abashed, a second and third were sent 
against the same martyr, but to no effect. 

“You would have been filled with admiration,” he 
continues, “at the steadfast intrepidity of those holy 
champions, and at the immovable fortitude displayed by 
persons of the most tender years. You might have seen 
a youth who had not yet completed his twentieth year, 
standing motionless in the midst of the arena with his 


60 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM . 


hands stretched forth in the form of a cross, as he prayed 
with fervour to God, and not shrinking from the spot 
in which he stood, even when the bears and leopards, 
breathing forth rage and death, almost touched his very 
iiesh with their jaws. Again, you might have seen others 
thrown before an enraged bull, which attacked the pagans 
who came near him, tossing them with his horns into the 
air, and leaving them to be taken away half-dead. But 
when with rage and bellowing he rushed upon the martyrs, 
he could not approach them, but stamping on the ground 
with his feet, tossing his horns to and fro, and breathing 
forth rage and madness, by reason of his being irritated 
by red-hot goads, the infuriated animal was, in despite of 
all, held back by an invisible hand. Other wild animals 
having been tried to no purpose, the Christians were at 
last put to death by the sword, and their relics, instead 
of being interred, were consigned to the surges of the 
deep” (Eccles. Hist., book viii). 

The scenes described by Eusebius were frequent all 
over the Empire. "Wherever the name of Christian was 
found the persecution raged. It would seem that 
Almighty God adopted this means to give His infant 
Church publicity and a sign of the stamp of divinity. 
Hence in His mercy and goodness He made the perse¬ 
cutions the fruitful harvest of souls. Baronius mentions 
(An. 307) that in the persecution of Diocletian, when 
the slain were counted by thousands daily, the holy Pope 
Marcellus had to appoint twenty-five new parishes in the 
city, to baptize and instruct the people who multiplied 
beneath the sword. The hideous and execrable character 
of the barbarities to which the Christians were subjected, 
with a view not only to force them to apostatize, but to 


THE ROMAN GENERAL. 


61 


deter others from embracing the proscribed belief, had 
the very contrary effect. As to the martyrs, persons of 
both sexes, and of the tenderest and most infirm age, not 
only bore their sufferings with superhuman fortitude, but 
hailed them with joy, as tending to the greater glory of 
God and the conversion of the pagans. Their very perse¬ 
cutors were forced to applaud the heroism of those whom 
they so bitterly hated, and to feel disgusted and afflicted 
at the atrocities they were once so vociferous in demand¬ 
ing. 

The reverence which the animals shewed the martyrs 
is touchingly displayed in a scene we will quote from the 
Acts of three martyrs of Tarsus, given in the Annals of 
Baronius, under the year 290. They did not suffer in 
the Coliseum at Rome, yet their martyrdom took place 
in another amphitheatre of the Empire, and the records 
of their death serve as a sample of what generally hap¬ 
pened in those days of horror. These martyrs, Tharasius, 
Probus and Andronicus, had been tortured in a most 
cruel manner at Tarsus in Cilicia; they were conveyed 
thence to Mopsueste, and were again submitted to the 
most horrible barbarities, and a third time they were 
tormented at Anazobus ; so that being covered all over 
with wounds, and their bones being broken and wrenched 
from their sockets, when the Governor Maximus wished 
to have them finally exposed in the amphitheatre to the 
wild beasts, it became necessary for the soldiers to press 
men from the streets in order carry thither their almost 
lifeless bodies. 

“ When we beheld this,” say the three devout Chris¬ 
tians who wrote the Acts, and interred the relics of the 
martyrs, “ we turned away our faces and wept; but when 


G2 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


their mangled frames were cast down from the men’s 
shoulders on the arena, all the spectators were horrified 
at the sight, and began to murmur at the president for 
this order, and many of them rose up and left the theatre, 
expressing their dislike of this ferocious cruelty; on 
which Maximus told his guards, who were near him, 
to take down the names of all who acted thus, that 
they might be afterwards brought to an account. He 
then commanded the wild beasts to be let loose on the 
martyrs and, when they would not touch them, he ordered 
the keepers to be scourged. A bear was then let out 
which had devoured three men that day ; but crouching 
at the feet of Andronicus, it began gently to lick his 
wounds, and continued thus mildly to demean itself, not¬ 
withstanding that the martyr plucked its hair and tried 
to irritate the animal. Then the president, in a fury, 
ordered the lancers to run the bear through the body : 
and Terentianus (the editor of the games) dreading the 
president’s anger, determined to make sure by letting in 
on the martyrs a lioness which had been sent from Anti¬ 
och by Herod ; but the lioness, to the terror of the spec¬ 
tators, began bounding to the place where they were re¬ 
clining ; and when at length she camb to the martyrs, as 
it were kneeling down before Theracius, who dragged 
and annoyed her, she seemed, by cowering down sub¬ 
missively, to attest her veneration, conducting herself 
less like a lioness than a lamb. Shouts of admiration 
burst forth from the whole amphitheatre, overpowering 
Maximus with confusion ; who screamed to the keepers 
to infuriate and goad on the lioness. But the beast, with 
another bound, broke through the palisade back to her 
den, and the manager, Terentianus, was ordered to 


THE ROMAN GENERAL . 


03 

proceed, without further interlude, with the gladiators; 
directing them first to dispatch the martyrs with their 
swords.” 

There are on record one or two extraordinary facts 
where animals refused to touch slaves who were cast to 
them; but these were exceptional cases of recognition 
and gratitude—a trait of nobility often found more prac¬ 
tised in the brute creation than in reasoning man. Our 
readers are familiar with the story of Androclus and the 
Lion. 

Seneca also mentions in his 2nd Book, and 9th chap., 
De Beneficiis, that a lion would not touch one of his 
keepers who was condemned to be exposed to the wild 
beasts. In the life of St. Sabba, a fact similar to that of 
Androclus is mentioned, and the grateful lion lived at the 
monastery with his monks. 

These facts, interesting and strange as they may be, 
were not miracles. There was no more of the supernatu¬ 
ral about them than there is in the fidelity of a dog, who 
would lose his life, in defence of even an unkind master. 
It is only the interposition of the divine power that can 
stay the enraged animals in their spring upon a defence¬ 
less victim, or make them crouch at the feet of persons 
they could never have seen before, whilst at the same 
moment the very men who fed them become victims of 
their rage. These wonders Almighty God worked in be¬ 
half of His servants; and the great St. Eustachius, with 
his family, is another instance of this wonderful preser¬ 
vation. 

In the life of this great martyr we have one of the ex¬ 
traordinary sacred romances of the second century, a con¬ 
version more wonderful than St. Paul’s, a life of trial and 


64 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


affliction like the patriarch Job, and a glorious death by 
martyrdom, the most terrible in the annals of persecution. 
No sensational novel of modern days ever detailed the 
imaginary vicissitudes of life more strange and more in¬ 
teresting than what vve have here in reality, and handed 
down to us with all the authority of history. There are 
men accustomed to doubt of everything strange in history, 
and they smile with sarcasm at our credulity in believing 
some of the most sacred records of the past; but we will 
first give an epitome of the extraordinary events of the life 
of St. Eustachius, and then show that we are recording a 
scene from the pages of ecclesiastical history, the truth of 
which there is no reason to doubt. 


2 . 

The Romans were from the very birth of their dynasty 
a brave and warlike people ; the heroes who led them on 
to battle and conquest were men of consummate skill and 
intelligence, and are justly immortalised on the pages of 
history. In ancient times the art of warfare was rude 
and undeveloped, and the whole existence of an army 
depended upon the skill of its general. He had to direct 
where there was no order, no intelligence, no judgment, 
save that which flashed from his own superior mind ; he 
moved the mighty machine of brutal and living force as 
he willed ; the roughest and wildest spirits were cemented 
together into the irresistible phalanx by one element 
alone, it was confidence in their leader; his skill was 
more to the army than numbers, position, or courage. 
Thus it was that Csesar, one of the greatest warriors of 
the past, said he feared more the general without an army 
than an army without a general. Eustachius or Placidus 


THE ROMAN GENERAL . 


65 


(by which name he was more generally known) was one 
of the great generals of the Roman army at the com¬ 
mencement of the second century. 

His influence and name were as great amongst the 
soldiers on account of his virtues as for his triumphs and 
military skill. He was admired by all for his mildness, 
love of justice and charity. He was the father of his 
soldiers, and treated them with leniency and justice ; vir¬ 
tues unknown to the barbarian soldier, but loved the 
moment their benign influence was felt. He was 
generous and charitable to the unfortunate, and although 
a pagan, he was eminently chaste. True greatness is incom¬ 
patible with the indulgence of the brutal propensities of 
man. The virtues and exalted position of Placidus 
rendered him the most conspicuous man of the time, like 
the solitary star si lining through the dark masses of cloud 
on a stormy night. No wmnder he was signalled out by 
Providence as the object of special grace and the instru¬ 
ment of great wonders, for Almighty God loves virtue 
and order, although practised by an infidel, and He never 
fails to reward it in due time. 

A soldier offered alms to St. Francis. In recompense 
for this act of charity, Almighty God revealed to the Saint 
the soldier’s approaching death. Francis gave him the 
prophetic warning, and prepared him for a happy end. 
Perhaps it was charity, some silent act of benevolence in 
the life of Placidus that brought down from heaven the 
great grace of conversion and made him a vessel of elec¬ 
tion. This seems even more probable from the words 
addressed to him by our Blessed Lord Himself, at the 
moment of his call to Christianity. 

One day Placidus went out according to his custom to 
E 


66 THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 

hunt. He proceeded with some officers of the cavalry 
division over which he had the command, to the brow of 
the Sabine hills, and fell in with a troop of beautiful 
stags. Amongst them there was one larger and more 
beautiful than the rest, and Placidus immediately pursued 
it with all the ardour of the chase. In the excitement, 
which huntsmen alone know, he was soon separated from 
his companions, and passed over hills and rapid rivers and 
on the edges of the most terrible precipices. He knew 
no danger; he was not accustomed to defeat; on he 
went, over mountains and through valleys, until he came 
up with his magnificent prize in a wild and lonely ravine, 
not far from the spot where now stands the picturesque 
village of Guadagnolo. This was the moment and place 
in which the providence of God destined to illumine the 
mind of the great general with the light of Christianity. 
The stag stood on the ledge of a rock just over him, and 
between its beautiful and branching horns there was a 
dazzling light; in the midst of an aureola of splendour 
he saw an image of the crucifixion. Struck with wonder 
and amazement, be heard a voice saying to him, “ Pla¬ 
cidus, why dost thou follow Me 1 Behold I have taken 
this form to speak to thee ; I am the Christ, whom thou 
servest without knowing. Thy charity and deeds of 
benevolence to the poor have stood before Me, and have 
made Me follow thee with My mercy. The just man, dear 
to me on account of his works, must not serve devils and 
false gods, who cannot give life or reward.” 

Placidus dismounted in terror and confusion. He 
could not remove his eyes from the beautiful vision 
that shone more brilliantly than the sun between the 
horns of the stag, and although he heard he did not un- 


THE ROMAN GENERAL. 


67 


derstand the voice that spoke to him. At length gaining 
courage, he cried out in an excited and tremulous 
tone— 

“ What voice is this % Who speaks 1 —reveal Thyself 
that I may know Thee.” 

Again the heavenly sounds fell on his ears, and he 
heard these words :— 

“ I am Jesus Christ, who created heaven and earth out 
of nothing, who threw all matter into shape, and made the 
light spring from the chaos of darkness. I am He who 
created the moon and the stars, and caused the day and 
the night; who created man from the slime of the earth, 
and for his redemption appeared in human flesh, was 
crucified, and rose the third day from the dead. Go, 
Placidus, to the city, and seek the chief pastor of the 
Christians and be baptized.” 

A ray—the last ray of the brilliant light which had 
dazzled his eyes, had entered his heart, and he under¬ 
stood all. He remained for hours on his knees, in his 
first warm and grateful prayer to the true God. When 
he awoke from his deep reverie of adoration and prayer, 
he found all was dark and silent. The sun had dis¬ 
appeared behind the mountains, and his faithful and 
wearied horse and dog slept beside him. He rose, like 
the Apostle Paul on the road to Damascus, with the 
courage of a lion, to proclaim the truth of the Christian 
religion, and the wonderful mercy of God. He roused 
his horse, and returned slowly through the bleak passes 
of the mountain towards the city. 

In the meantime, alarms for the safety of Placidus 
were increasing at his residence in the city. He was 
gifted with a noble and amiable spouse ; their union had 


68 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


been strengthened by long years of * peace. In the simi¬ 
lar and moral tendencies of their virtuous souls their 
home presented a scene of domestic bliss rarely found in 
pagan circles. The unusual absence of the general gave 
her immense anxiety; all night she sat up watching for 
his well-known tread on the threshold, but the grey 
dawn was breaking on the horizon and still no sign of 
Placidus. 

Starting from the momentary repose of a delusive dream 
she found her slave awaiting returning consciousness to 
deliver a message. 

“ Most noble lady, Rufus, who had accompanied the 
general this morning to the hunt, has returned and prays 
an audience.” 

“ Quick, quick, Sylvia, bring him to my presence.” 

She sprung from her seat, met the veteran soldier at 
the door, and trembling with excitement, she addressed 
him :— 

“ Say Rufus, knowest thou aught of the general ; thou 
wert ever a true soldier, and kept by his side in the 
darkest hour, how came you separated from him ? Speak, 
I fear thy silence.” 

The veteran leaned on his halbert; after a moment’s 
pause, he spoke in a deep, solemn voice. 

“ Noble lady, I am loath to fan thy misgivings to 
darker anticipations of ill, but we fear for the safety of the 
general.” 

“I conjure thee, Rufus, tell me all,” she cried frantic¬ 
ally, “ has his trusty steed fallen and cast him down the 
awful precipice, have ravenous wolves fed on his mangled 
corpse 1 ” 

“ None of these calamities, noble lady, have befallen 


THE ROMAN GENERAL. 


our brave commancler,” interrupted Rufus. (< We believe 
he has but lost his way in the mountains, and shall be 
here before noon. This morning I was by his side when 
a large stag started from the copse ; the dogs gave chase, 
and our steeds flew over the rugged mountain side. The 
stag was the largest ever seen in these hills, and the chase 
the fleetest ever run. Our inferior horses soon fell back, 
and we saw the glittering helmet of our commander rush¬ 
ing like a ball of fire through the woods; he was soon 
lost from our sight near the ravines of Marino. We 
halted under the shade of a figtree, hoping each moment 
to see our gallant commander return with the spoils of 
his brilliant chase. The hours passed slowly on ; anxi¬ 
ously we listened for the echoes of his horn; no dog re¬ 
turned with blood-stained mouth to tell of victory; each 
moment of anxiety made the hammer of life beat with a 
heavier throb. We searched the mountain side, and 
called louder and louder the name of our general; there 
was no response save the mournful echoes that broke the 
stillness of the olive groves. Trembling for his safety, I 
hurried back to headquarters to ask a detachment of 
horse to scour the mountain. Behold, noble lady, how 
I am separated from the general. The life stream of my 
heart’s blood is not dearer than the safety of thy lord— 
Rufus shall serve under no other commander but Placi- 
dus.” 

Whilst Rufus was yet speaking a bustle was heard out¬ 
side, and some excited slaves rushed in, announcing the 
general had come. Wearied and covered with dust, he 
dismounted. In silence he embraced his wife, and hav¬ 
ing made a sign for all to leave the room, he addressed 
his spouse. 


70 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


“Stella, I have a strange tale to tell thee. Thou 
knowest the terrors of war and the crash of empires have 
ever been my ambition and my joy. Heretofore I feared 
nothing,'and I knew no God but my sword, but since last 
1 sat under the shadow of these ancestral towers and the 
beams of thy loving smile, a change has come over my 
dream of ambition. Like the sunrise bursting from a 
thick bank of clouds, a vision from the invisible world 
passed before these eyes—a Deity greater than the gods 
of this Empire manifested Himself to me. Stella, I am a 
Christian! ” 

With many tears he described his vision—the miracu¬ 
lous interposition of Divine Providence to call him to the 
light of faith. That day he arranged his affairs to aban¬ 
don himself generously to the call of divine grace. Mes¬ 
sengers were secured to guide him to the Catacombs, 
where the Christian Bishop ruled the Church of God. 
In spite of the remonstrance of his timid spouse, who 
dreaded the awful consequences involved in the profes¬ 
sion of Christianity in these days of terror, he hastened 
the first hour after nightfall to the crypts on the Salarian 
Way. Amongst the sublime lessons taught him in his 
vision on the mountains, was the folly of 

“ Leaving to the mercies of a moment 
The vast concerns of an eternal scene. 

It is probable that the terrible persecution of Domitian 
was but subsiding at this time. The Christians were 
obliged to seek shelter in the Catacombs from the fury of 
the storm ; and whilst Almighty God permitted that they 
could not preach the law of grace and redemption 
publicly to the world, He supplied the ministry by the 


THE ROMAN GENERAL. 


71 


interior operations of grace, and gave to His suffering 
and banished Apostles the consolation of a more fruitful 
harvest. If, as we imagine, the martyrdom of Eusta- 
chius did not take place until about sixteen years after 
his baptism, the holy Pope Anacletus (according to 
Baronius) must have been sitting in the chair of St. Peter. 
Trajan was at this time Emperor, and of his character 
and reign wc have already spoken in the life of St. 
Ignatius. 

The holy Pope had taken shelter from the storms of 
persecution in a crypt in the Catacombs of St. Priscilla on 
the Via Salara. God vouchsafed to inform him in a 
vision of the conversion of Placidus. He was kneeling 
before a rude crucifix placed on the marble slab that cov¬ 
ered a martyr’s tomb, and constituted the altar of the 
dread sacrifice of the mass. A small oil lamp cast a 
dim flickering light on the sepulchral slabs ; the silence 
of those corridors of the dead was only broken by the 
gentle murmur of prayer, or the faint echo of the ham¬ 
mer and axe of the fossores. Suddenly the holy father 
saw the walls of the archisolium* fade before his view, 
and in their stead a charming scene in the Appenines. 
On the ledge of a rock he saw a majestic stag bearing in 
his horns, amidst a sun of light, the sacred sign of re¬ 
demption, and prostrate in prayer lay the Roman Gene¬ 
ral. The vision faded away- again, and the holy father, 
who understood the mercy God had shown to a noble 
soul, remained long wrapt in grateful prayer. 

When night had enveloped the city a mysterious party, 
thickly veiled and concealed under large cloaks, passed 

* Arcliisolium was the niche in which the holy sacrifice of the 
mass was celebrated. 


72 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


through the Salarian Gate. No questions were asked, for 
the military cloak of Placidus was a guarantee of protec¬ 
tion. Two little children of three and five years held 
with childish fear their mother’s garments, and their 
quick little steps pattered musically on the massive pave¬ 
ment with the solemn strides of their military father. In 
silence they passed through the stately villas that adorned 
either side of the road, and soon reached the gentle de¬ 
clivity known to the ancient Christians as the Clivum Cu- 
cumeris. The guide brought them down through the long 
narrow corridors and introduced them to the presence of 
the holy pontiff, who rose and embraced Placidus as if he 
had known and loved him in years gone by. 

We can imagine with what joy the holy Pope poured 
the regenerating waters of baptism on the heads of the 
Roman general and his family. It was on this occasion 
he recoived the name of Eustachius, his wife was called 
Theopista, and the two children Agapius and Theopiston, 
all names derived from the Greek, expressing favour with 
God. The. parting words of the venerable Pontiff to the 
neophyte family were to take up their cross manfully, and 
bear it, like their crucified Master, to the very utmost of 
human endurance ; they were called to glorify the Church 
in the days of its trouble; the Christian must be tried in 
the furnace of affliction ; “through many tribulations we 
must enter the kingdom of heaven.” He seemed to speak 
with a prophetic spirit, for our next chapter will show 
Placidus proved and found faithful. 

. 3. 

God tries those whom He loves. Having chosen Placi¬ 
dus for a vessel of election, he proved him by a series of 


THE ROMAN GENERAL. 


73 


afflictions, which made the patience of this great servant 
shine more conspicuously than any other virtue. His 
biographers have compared him to the great patriarch 
Job. But that light which had entered his heart had 
taught him the secret value of trials and afflictions—that 
they were the choicest favours of Heaven. 

He whom he had now taken for his Master and Model 
was ever in sorrow and affliction ; the disciple is not to 
be better than the Master. A life of ease, a bed of down, 
silken garments, and ornaments of jewels and gold, are 
not the armour which distinguishes the soldiers of a naked 
and crucified God. When we suffer the slight and pass¬ 
ing sorrows of life, we should remember they are tokens 
of God’s predilection and sanctification for our souls. 

After his baptism and reception into the Church, Pla- 
cidus returned to the memorable spot in the Sabine hills 
where he had beheld the wonderful vision, to give thanks 
to God.* The Most High was pleased with his prompt 
and generous response to the call of grace, and vouch¬ 
safed to give him again other and consoling visions, and 
to forewarn him of the trials that were awaiting him. 

He had no sooner reached his home after his pilgrim¬ 
age, than the terrible storm of sorrow broke on him and 
crushed him to the very earth. The sad tale of his trial 
would excite pity in the hardest heart. In a few days he 
lost all his horses and cattle, and every living thing about 
his house, even his servants and domestics were swept 
away by a virulent pestilence. The awful gloom that 
death had spread around, the stench of unburied car- 

* A little chapel was built on this spot in the fourth century, 
and rebuilt in after ages. It still stands to commemorate the extra 
ordinary conversion of Placidus. 


74 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


cases, and the unhealthy state of the corrupted atmos¬ 
phere, obliged him to leave his home for awhile; but 
this was a source of new affliction. During his absence 
thieves had entered his house and removed everything 
he had; he was reduced to absolute beggary. At this, 
time the whole city was rejoicing and celebrating the 
triumph of the Roman arms over the Persians. Placidus 
could not join in these festivities, and, overcome with 
grief, disappointment and shame, he agreed with his 
wife to flee to some unknown country, where at least 
they could bear their sufferings and their poverty without 
the cruel taunts of proud and unfeeling friends. 

They made their way to Ostia, and found a vessel 
about to start for Egypt. They had no money to pay 
for a passage ; but the captain, who was a cruel and bad 
man, seeing the youth and beauty of Theopista, the wife 
of Placidus, felt an impure passion spring up in his heart, 
and thought, by permitting them on board, he might be 
able to gratify his wicked desires. But he knew nothing 
of the beauty, the sublimity, the inviolability of the virtue 
of chastity in the Christian female ; and when he found 
himself treated with the scorn of indignant virtue at even 
the whispered suggestion of infidelity, he writhed under 
his disappointment, and meditated revenge. The devil 
suggested a plan. Arrived at the shores of Africa, tho 
captain again demanded the fee for the passage, and in • 
timated to Placidus, if it were not paid, he would keep 
Theopista as a hostage. He was sent on shore with his 
two helpless little children, and bis beautiful and faithful 
spouse was forcibly detained on board ; they immediately 
set sail for another port. 


Talk not of grief till thou hast seen the tears of warlike men.' 


THE ROMAN GENERAL. 


75 


Poor Placidus felt the warm tears steal down his 
cheek as he saw the sails of the little bark filled with a 
fair wind, and waft from him the greatest treasure he 
possessed in this world. He saw himself on a barren ' 
and inhospitable shore, exiled, poor, and widowed. Did 
his faithful legions but know of his sad fate, how their 
trusty swords would flash in vindication of their injured 
general! Looking on his little ones, robbed of .their 
mother and protector, he drew them near his breaking 
heart, and pointing, with a trembling finger, to the white 
speck the little vessel had now made on the blue horizon, 
he cried out: “Your mother is given to a stranger.”* 
Striking his forehead with his hand, he bent down and 
wept bitterly. There is no pang in human sorrow so 
galling as blighted affection, and this is more keenly felt 
when the object of our love is handed over, not to death, 
to bloodshed, or want, but to infamy and dishonour. 
Even the pagan parent would plunge the dagger into 
the heart of his Virginia rather than let her live in 
dishonour. 

But “ better is the patient man than the brave.” The 
man who can bear trials and misfortune is greater than 
the hero of the battle-field. Remembering his promise 
to God in the ravine of the Apennines, he instantly 
checked his grief; and rising up, with an ejaculation like 
holy Job, and taking his two little children by the hand, 
he moved towards the interior of the country with a brave 
and resigned heart. But God had other trials to prove 
him yet more. 

He had not gone far when he came up to a river much 

* “ Yae mihi et voids quia mater vestra tradita est aliengriJe 
marito.”—Acts. Bollandists, 20th Sept. 


76 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


swollen by some late rains; it was fordable, but Placidus 
saw it would be dangerous to take his two children over 
together, so he determined to take one first then another. 
Leaving one on the bank, he entered into the stream with 
the youngest. He had scarcely reached the opposite bank 
when the screams of the other child attracted his atten¬ 
tion, and looking round, he beheld an enormous lion 
taking the child in his mouth and carrying it away to 
devour it. Placidus left the infant in his arms on the 
bank, and, reckless of fear or danger, plunged once more 
into the rushing torrent. Grief must be terrible when it 
can make an unarmed man believe he can chase and fight 
the king of the forest. He was scarcely out of the stream 
when his other child was seized by a wolf.* This last 
afflicting sight paralysed his courage, and he could not 
move another step. He fell on his knees, and appealed 
to the great God who he knew had arranged all; with 
the fervour of his young faith and the natural sorrow of 
a bereaved father, he prayed for patience that no 
blasphemy might escape from his lips—that no mis¬ 
givings might undermine the confidence of his worship. 
He remained for some time in prayer, and felt the balm 
of heavenly consolation gradually creeping over his 
troubled soul. Faith alone can break the barriers of 
time and waft the soul in anticipation to the union that 

* Portans vero unum infantem super humeras suos reliquit alterum 
circa ripam et transposuit infantem quern portaverit super terrain efe 
ibat ut reportaret et alterum. Cum venisset, autem, in medium flu- 
minis, nimis autem fluvius dilatatus erat intendens vidit et ecce leo 
rapuit filium ejus et abiit in sylvas. Et desperans de eo, reversus est 
in patientia, spem habens alterius et cum abiret videt et ecce similiter 
lupus rapuit alterum filium ejus et abiit et non potuit eum consequi, 
etc. —Acts, ib. 


THE ROMAN GENERAL. 


77 


immortality must bring. Placidus committed his family 
to God, and knew they were happy; and as for himself, 
he determined to bear manfully the few days of trouble 
which Providence had yet allotted to him. He arose 
once more from his prayer, strengthened and consoled, 
more detached from every human consolation, more 
united to God. He soon left the vicinity of these sad 
and sorrowful scenes, and fled to another part, of the 
country. 

We next find Placidus as a poor labourer in a farm 
called Bardyssa. But this is the last part of the dark 
night of his trial, the twilight that precedes a glorious 
sunrise. Almighty God had now proved His servant by 
the severest adversity which can befall a man : in a 
whirlwind of affliction he blasted all his temporal com¬ 
forts, his domestic felicity and paternal affection; and the 
neophyte vessel of election was found faithful, and now 
comes the sunshine of his crown. Some years had passed 
since he lost his wife and children, and he had spent all 
that time unknown, in labour, prayer, and solitude, 
mounting higher and higher on the ladder of perfection, 
and in union with God; but the time of his reward is at 
hand, and by one grand stroke of that all-directing Provi¬ 
dence which knows no chance, he was restored to all his 
former honour and comfort. He was again placed at the 
head of the Roman army, and restored to the embraces 
of his wife and children, never more to be separated, not 
even by death; for they were all brought together to the 
endless joys of heaven by the glorious death of martyr¬ 
dom. Let us follow the course of events that brought 
about these great and consoling effects. 


78 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM . 


4 . 

The great capital of the Roman Empire is all in com¬ 
motion. News has been brought from the East that the 
Persians and other nations had broken over the frontier 
and were devastating everything before them. Prepara¬ 
tions were made for war on every side. Old veterans 
were brushing up their swords, and armies of young men 
were pouring in from the provinces. Fresh rumours of 
the advancing foe gaVe new impulse to the excitement, 
and an expedition of more than usual magnitude and 
importance was speedily equipped. The haughty soul of 
Trajan, who still sat on the throne of the Caesars, could 
not brook for a moment the slightest infringement on 
the Empire, or the diminution of his own glory; and he 
lost no time and spared no expense in striking quickly 
and heavily on the daring enemy. But to whom will he 
commit his warlike legions and the very fate of the Em¬ 
pire. There were none but young and inexperienced men 
around him. He thought of Placidus, the commander of 
his horse, who had carried the tide of victory, in years 
gone by, to the farthest limits of the Empire, the great 
general who was the idol of the army and the terror of 
every foe. Rumour said he was still alive, but retired 
from public life. Trajan seized the rumour with all the 
avidity of a man whose hopes had been blasted and was 
risking everything on a last chance. He offered immense 
rewards to any one who would discover the retreat of 
Placidus, and bring him once more at the head of the 
iron legions of the Empire. In burning anxiety and 
doubt he delayed the departure of the expedition from 
day to day, hoping that some tidings would come of his 


THE ROMAN GENERAL. 


79 


favourite general.* He was not disappointed, for Placi- 
dus was found. 

Two veterans, named Antiochus and Achacius, started 
off towards the Egyptian provinces in search of Placidus. 
Their wanderings and unceasing inquiries seemed fruit¬ 
less, when one morning, as they were giving up the 
search, and were about to return to the sea-sliore, they 
came up to a beautiful and well-kept farm, and a short 
distance from them they beheld a poor labouring-man at 
work. They went towards him, and made inquiries if a 
Roman citizen named Placidus lived in those regions. 
The two soldiers thought they saw something in the old 
man which reminded them of their general; the nobility 
of his appearance and bearing seemed to tell of one who 
had seen better days; they even thought they saw in 
his worn features, browned by the sun and wrinkled by 
grief and care, some traces of the amiable features of 
Placidus ; yet, it could not be; their general an exile, a 
labourer in this miserable place! What reverse of for¬ 
tune could have reduced him to this change l how could 
so great a man be cast from such honour and glory to 
such obscurity and poverty 'l But he who stood before 
them in the tattered garments of a poor labourer had 
already recognized two of the bravest veterans of his 
legions.f The memory of the wars and battles and vic¬ 
tories of other days flashed across his mind; the very 
places these two men took in the defeat of the enemy, 
their bravery by his side in the field of battle, and the 

* Efc misit per unamquamque civitatem et terram quae erat sub 
imperio suo et requirerent eum.—76. 

f A longe considerans ex consuetudine incessus eorum ne cognovit 
eos.—76. 


80 


THE MART YES OF THE COLISEUM . 


scars they received in the bloody fight—all rushed on 
him in a moment, and roused every great and brave 
feeling of his soul. He was about to run towards his 
companions in arms and embrace them, but prudence 
held him back, and by an act of self-control he suppressed 
his excited feeling. Drawing himself up majestically with 
a sigh, which alone told of the struggle that passed within, 
he asked: “Why seek you Placidus?”* Whilst Antiochus 
was recounting how the enemies of the Empire had once 
more declared war in the East, and the Emperor wished 
to intrust to that general alone the care of the expedition, 
and had sent the soldiers who served under him to all 
parts to seek him, Placidus could no longer contain his 
feelings, and opening the rude garment that covered the 
scars on his breast, he showed them to the astonished 
veterans, and told them that he was the general they 
sought. Another moment and they were hanging round 
his neck, and shedding tears of joy. 

Eome was once saved by the brave Cincinnatus taken 
from his plough to defend the threatened city. Like the 
great chief of old, Placidus was received with the univer¬ 
sal joy of the people—the confidence of the army was 
restored, and new life appeared in all the troops—battles 
and triumphs were anticipated and declared before they 
were fought or won. The Emperor was filled with de¬ 
light; he embraced his former master of the horse, 
listened with interest to the history of the vicissitudes of 
his loss and grief; and, placing around his waist the 
golden belt of consular command, begged of him to draw 

* Die nobis si nosti hie peregrinum aliquem, nomine Placidam, 
etc. Quapropter eum quseritis, etc.— Ib. 


THE ROMAN GENERAL . 


81 


his sword once more in the cause of the Empire.* The 
holy man had already recognized, in the humility and 
prayer of his heart, the great change that had come over 
his circumstances so strangely and so suddenly, as the 
disposition of the loving providence of God, and pre¬ 
pared, even in his old age, to mingle again in the din of 
arms and fatigues of war. During the days of his trial 
and resignation in the lonely vineyards of Egypt, the 
Divine Spirit had revealed to him that a day of restora¬ 
tion to all he had lost in this world would soon dawn on 
his gloomy path. Here is the first step in the fulfilment 
of his dream ; let us see how God brought about the rest. 

Whilst Placidus is casting his rough army into shape, 
and exercising his soldiers in the terrible science of 
bloodshed and war, we must retrace our steps for a mo¬ 
ment, and take a glance at the poor, wretched Theopista, 
whom we left in the bark of the tyrant captain who 
cruelly tore her from her husband and her children. 

Doubtless, in the sympathy of his pious heart, the 
reader has pitied her in her affliction, and hoped that 
some fortunate circumstance may have saved her. But 
has Almighty God ever abandoned His servants when the 
angelical virtue was threatened 1 Who more powerful 
before Him than the innocent defenceless female 1 ? In 
the history of the past no virtue has had more visible 
protection from Heaven than chastity; no vice has caused 
more terrible vengeance than impurity. The prayer of 
the virgin for the protection of her innocence not only 
pierced the clouds, but drew from them the electric bolt 
that struck the oppressor with judgment. Fear not for 
the virtuous and faithful Theopista; God is her shield, 

* Et cingitur ut ante magister militum. —Ib. 

F 


82 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


and who can prevail against the Most High ? The means 
He adopted to protect His servant were silent, consoling, 
and merciful.* He did not strike the impious captain 
with a sudden and terrible blow of merited retribution, 
but he breathed on his heart a sentiment of tenderness 
and pity that made him blush for his cruelty and impiety 
towards the young mother. Scarcely had the fair wind 
wafted the little ship out of sight of Theopista’s husband 
and children, than the sobs which grief was pressing from 
her breaking heart struck a fibre of pity in the feelings 
of the pagan captain. At the same moment Almighty 
God removed the stimulus of the flesh, and made him 
love and admire in his captive a virtue he never knew 
before. The virtuous soul is like the fruit-tree in blos¬ 
som, that gives fragrance to every breeze, and spreads a 
delicious odour on the atmosphere around. The sub¬ 
limity of virtue that shone in the fidelity of the Christian 
matron, the patience and forgiveness of that suffering 
child of misfortune, so completely won the pagan, that, 
from being her enemy and oppressor, he became her 
protector and guardian. He landed Theopista at the 
next port he touched at, and gave her money and goods 
to maintain her for some time. She, too, had her share 
of trial, and fifteen long years of suffering and exile ; 
proved her worthy of the joy and crown that were 
awaiting her. 

Everything was ready, and the expedition started for 
the East. The spirit of joy and bravery which animated 
the soldiers was the harbinger of the greatest triumphs. 
They poured in thousands through the eastern gates of 
the city; and, whilst the morning sun was reflected from 

# Domini vero gratia obnmbravit mulierum, etc.— Ib. 


THE ROMAN GENERAL. 


83 


their burnished battle-axes and spears, the tombs of their 
mighty dead, which lined the Appian Way, were made 
to echo once more with the war-songs of the irresistible 
legions of the Empire. The octogenarian leader—the 
Christian Placidus—brought up the rear of the march, 
and was drawn in a chariot by two beautiful Arab 
horses. 

We need not tarry long over the oft-told tale of Koman 
triumph. The legions poured like Alpine avalanches 
into the country of the enemy, crushing in their course 
everything that was opposed to them. Not only were 
the rebellious subjects reduced to submission, but the 
conquering eagle spread its wings over new dominions, 
and new provinces were added to the boundless territory 
of the Ceesars. 

The meekness and skill of Placidus knew how to turn 
everything to profit; few of his conquests were purchased 
with unnecessary bloodshed and carnage. He pardoned 
freely, and never retributed the resistance of a brave 
people by the retaliation so terrible in the annals of pagan 
warfare. 

Every army has its heroes. The campaign of Placidus 
was nearly at an end before its real soldiers were known. 
Where the conquest was easy all were brave, but a 
moment of danger and trial came, and the laurels of 
fame fell to those who won them. The army was sur¬ 
prised in an ambuscade, but was saved by the prompt 
action of two youths belonging to the Numidian corps. 
They were two brave young men who had met each 
other for the first time in the ranks and became friends. 
They were strolling outside of the camp when the cry “To 
arms ” was heard. They rushed like startled lions to the 


84 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


front and cheered on their companions; they fought 
together against fearful odds, but their battle-axes were 
wielded rapidly and skilfully, and dealt destruction on 
every side. With a few brave companions they with¬ 
stood the progress of the enemy until their own army 
had come up to the rescue; such brave and unexpected 
resistance sent a panic through the enemy, and they fled 
with terrible massacre; some thousands were slain, and 
the army of opposition was so completely destroyed that 
it never stood in the field of battle again. 

The general had seen what had passed, and when the 
battle was over, he sent for the young heroes who had 
saved the army, raised them to the rank of captain, and 
bestowed on them the honour of his intimate friendship. 

The army had passed on from triumph to triumph, and 
we must now open the scene of our tale on a wild plain 
on the coast of Arabia, where they were encamped before 
the return to the great capital. There were a few little 
huts of fishermen on the sea-shore, and here and there, 
along the banks of a fertile stream, some pretty little 
houses surrounded by gardens and vineyards. Amongst 
them there was one more beautiful than the rest, and 
/running on a gentle slope towards the river. It belonged 
to a poor widow, who lived by the fruits of her little gar¬ 
den and the labour of her own hands. Here the old gene¬ 
ral, wearied and fatigued from the hardships and priva¬ 
tions of the campaign, pitched his tent, and arranged to 
remain some time before undertaking the fatiguing jour¬ 
ney of return. Near him he had the two young captains, 
whom he had made his confidants, and treated as if they 
were his adopted children. Doubtless the old man saw 
in the youth and beauty of the young men what his own 


THE ROMAN GENERAL. 


85 


sons would have been if they had been spared to him 
Some invisible attraction made him love them tenderly ? 
and lie could not bear them to be absent from his side. 
They, too, grew in the deepest friendship with each other; 
a similarity of feeling and disposition, a secret love for 
virtue, and a certain trait of nobility in every thought and 
action, not only knit them together in inseparable bonds 
of harmony, but enhanced them in the love and esteem of 
all who knew them. 

One day, as was their custom, they strolled together 
along the banks of the little stream. Everything was 
fresh and beautiful around them; the birds sang in the 
trees; and the flowers, that grew in great abundance in 
the vicinity of the stream, spread a thousand odours on 
the gentle breeze that rippled the waters. The young 
soldiers sat down under the shade of a fig-tree and entered 
into an animated conversation.* The elder was a tall, 
handsome young man of about eighteen years, and seemed 
about two years older than his companion. He was of a 
gentle, silent disposition, and often seemed rapt in 
thought as if some cloud hung over him. His younger 
companion noticed this to be particularly the case on the 
day in question, and during their conversation he would 
frequently pause and look abstractedly on the little stream, 
which was rapidly rising and swelling up to its banks 
from a heavy shower which had fallen in the neighbour¬ 
ing mountains. In that familiarity which their tried 
friendship permitted, he affectionately asked his com¬ 
panion the cause of his trouble. 

“ It is now some time since you and I first met,” we can 

* Est facto meridie, sedentes exponebant sibi invicens de infantia 
Bua, etc.— Ib. 


86 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


imagine the young officer to have said, “ and I have all 
along thought you had some secrets locked up in your 
heart which it would console and interest me to hear. Do 
tell me your history, that I may participate in your sor¬ 
row. You know I am your friend. ” 

The other looking on him with kindness, and as if 
reading his countenance to see if he were in earnest, 
grasped his hand, and turning his eyes towards heaven, 
gave a sigh ; then drawing his companion nearer to him, 
he said, in an excited manner : “ Yes, I will tell you a 
strange story, but you must not betray my secret. I am 
a Roman citizen and a Christian.” 

The young man started up as if a clap of thunder had 
burst over him, but the other, preventing him from say¬ 
ing a word, and calling him by his name, continued in a 
kindand majestic tone: “Although I enlisted in the Roman 
army in the same province as yourself, I was not born 
there. My father was a Roman general and a man of 
great esteem. I remember when I was but five years of 
age, one day he w r ent to hunt, as was his custom, and did 
not return until an early hour the next morning.. He 
came home in an excited state, and said things that made 
my mother weep. The following night, when all was dark 
and still, they took me and my little brother, who was only 
three years old, to a dark cave in the earth, and after we 
had passed some winding and gloomy corridors, we en¬ 
tered a little room beautifully lit up. There was an aged 
man sitting on a stone chair, and he wore a beautiful stole 
round his neck. The walls of the little room were cov¬ 
ered with beautiful paintings of men in rich garments, 
of fishes and lambs, and I remember the picture of a man 
nailed to a cross. The venerable old man spoke to my 


THE ROMAN GENERAL. 


87 


father and mother for a long time. I do not remember all 
he said, but he spoke of the true God whom the pagans 
did not kno’jv, and allthegood things God had donefor man 
—how He loved him, how He died for him, how He pro¬ 
mised him eternal happiness hereafter. My parents were 
very much affected, and I remember my father wept 
again, as if he had done something wrong. Then the 
aged man poured water on our heads, and called us all by 
different names ; my name was Agapius. I knew by all 
this that I was made a Christian and a child of the great 
God he spoke of. After this many prayers were said, and 
when leaving that strange place, my father and mother 
seemed very much rejoiced. 

“ Soon after my father suffered the loss of all his pro¬ 
perty ; his cattle and horses died of a terrible disease; 
even our slaves and servants also died; and we left the 
house and went to a vineyard outside the Nomentan Gate. 
While away, my father was robbed of all he had, and was 
reduced to poverty. Then one night, taking my brother 
and myself and mother, he led us to the sea-shore, and 
we got into a ship, and were fifteen days on the rough 
sea. When we came to land, my father and my little 
brother and myself were sent on shore, but not my 
mother, and the little ship went away with her immedi¬ 
ately. Oh ! I shall never forget the grief of my poor 
father on that occasion.” 

He buried his face in his hands and wept for some 
time, and a tear stole down the cheek of his young com¬ 
panion. Looking up again, he continued his tale amidst 
tears and deep sighs. 

“ Then rising suddenly, he took my little brother in 
his arms and me by the hand, and we went into the 


88 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


country. We came to a river that was running very 
rapidly, and as my father could not take us both over 
together, he bade me remain on the bank whilst he took 
my little brother over first, promising to come back for 
me. But while my father was crossing the stream—oh ! 
I shall never forget it!—a terrible lion came out of the 
woods and seized me. A shudder passed over his com¬ 
panion ; he seemed all excitement, and cried out— 

“How strange ! But tell me how you were saved.” He 
seemed much agitated ; some words had come to his lips, 
but he repressed them and listened with motionless anxi¬ 
ety to the remainder of his companion’s story. 

“ Well,” continued the young captain, “ I screamed 
for help, but it was too late. The lion caught me in his 
mouth—I have still the marks of his teeth on my body 
—and carried me towards the forest. Fortunately there 
were some shepherds passing by, and when they saw me 
they set their dogs after the lion. One of the dogs caught 
hold of me and was pulling me from him, when the lion 
let me fall and seized the dog, and went away with it. 
The shepherds carried me to their little house, and a good 
woman put me to bed and took care of me. I recovered, 
and grew up in that house; but I never saw my father or 
my brother since then.” Seizing his companion by the 
arm, and his eyes suffused with tears, he said: “Wonder 
not, my friend, that I am sad ; this stream, those trees, 
and this wild plain in which we are encamped, remind 
me of those terrible scenes of my youth. Can I ever for¬ 
get that day on which I lost father, mother, brother, all 1 ” 
He could say no more, but buried his face in his hands 
again and wept bitterly. 

He remarked, during the recital of his story, that his 


THE ROMAN GENERAL. 


89 


young friend was getting more and more excited ; and 
from time to time gave expression to incoherent sentences 
and ejaculations of surprise. “ Strange ! It must be ! 
Oli, joy! ” was all the young man could say. After a 
moment’s silence, he cried out, with energy and excite¬ 
ment: “ Agapius, I believe I am thy brother.”* 

The other started. “ How ! speak ! say why thou 
thinkest so—or dost thou trifle with my sorrow ? ” 

The young man replied quickly, and with agitation: 
“ I too lost my parents in my youth. The people who 
brought me up told me they saved me from a wolf near 
the stream of Chobar; that I was of a noble Roman 
family, for I had around my neck this golden ornament.” 

Whilst he was putting his hand into his breast to look 
for the ornament, the other sprang to his feet in excite¬ 
ment, and cried out: “ Show it! has it got on it the 
name of Theophistus and the Ides of March?” —“Yes? 
here it is.” Agapius, recognising the amulet his mother 
had put round his neck on the morning after their bap¬ 
tism, caught the young man in his arms, and cried out: 
“My brother, my brother !” 

Further explanations placed the fact beyond doubt, 
and the two brothers remained for hours together, every 
now and then embracing each other with tears of affec¬ 
tion. They told each other all the particulars of their 
after-lives. Theophistus was saved from the wolf by 
some ploughmen, who saw the child in its mouth and, 
rescuing him, brought him up as one of their own child¬ 
ren. They were reared some miles apart from each 
other and did not know it; but God, whose ways are in¬ 
scrutable, brought them together in the Roman army, 

* Per Deuin Christianorum, ut audio frater tuus sum ego ! 


90 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


that he might restore them to their lost father and 
mother, as the reward of their patience and virtue. The 
joy of the young men was to be increased by another dis¬ 
covery more consoling and more extraordinary. The 
reader knows it already ; the general is their father. 

When the excitement of the first' moments of recogni¬ 
tion had subsided, they agreed to repair to their general 
to inform him of the extraordinary discovery they had 
made. They found the old man in his tent, sitting at a 
rude table ; his face was covered with his hands, and he 
seemed rapt in meditation and thought. 

The eldest rushed towards him and told him he had 
strange and joyful glad news to tell him. The old man 
raised his head ; his eyes were moist, and a cloud of gloom 
mantled his brow. Looking with a parental smile on the 
cheerful youth, he said to him— 

“Speak, then, my child, for thy joy shall be mine ; the 
happiness of others makes us forget our own sorrows ; 
thy words will come like sunshine breaking through the 
gloom of my heart. Alas ! this day has sad reminiscences 
for me. It is the anniversary of a series of misfortunes 
which deprived me of my wife and my children.” 

He paused for a moment, and raising his eyes, dimmed 
with the filling tears, towards heaven, exclaimed: “But 
it was the will of Him who reigns above ; He gave, and 
He took away : blessed be His holy name ! ” 

The young captain was astonished. It was the first 
time his old general prayed to the true God before him. 
A thousand thoughts rushed into his mind ; he knew not 
whether he should first declare that he too was a Chris¬ 
tian, or relate the discovery of his brother. He loved 
the old man as a father, and his softened heart melted 


THE ROMAN GENERAL. 


91 


once more to see his veteran chief in sorrow. A few 
hasty, explanations sufficed to reveal the truth that he 
was talking to his own father. Another moment, and 
the young men were hanging round his neck, and the old 
chief was pressing his brave sons to his heart. Let the 
imagination paint the picture that no pen can draw. 
One moment of joy like this outweighs years of the 
darkest trial. But the dark and stormy night of Placi- 
dus’ trial is passing away, and the brilliant sunshine of 
reward is rising over him—a sunshine which, during the 
rest of his life, will beclouded but for a moment, to usher 
in the dazzling brightness of eternal, unchangeable bliss 
—that moment will be death by martyrdom for the faith 


Whilst the events we have recorded were taking place, 
there was a great commotion in the camp. A courier 
had arrived in great haste. He announced the death of 
Trajan in Selinonte (a town of Cilicia), and the election 
of Adrian by the army. This election had been confirmed 
by the Senate, and the army of Placidus was ordered to 
return immediately to join in the triumph accorded by 
universal acclamation to the ashes of the deceased Em¬ 
peror. The soldiers under Placidus had been nearly two 
years absent, and were wearied with the fatigues and 
privations of war. They hailed with delight the news 
of their return. Deafening shouts that announced the 
glad tidings had reached the tent of Placidus before the 
courier could be brought before him. The messenger, 
foot-sore and covered with dust, handed the general a 
parchment roll, on which was written— 


92 THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM . 

“ It has pleased the gods to raise us to the throne of the Empire. 
We decree a triumph for the army of Placidus, and command our 
brave general to return forthwith to the Capital. 

“ Adrian.” 

*The general held the parchment for a few moments in 
his hands; he became abstracted ; raising his eyes slowly 
towards heaven, he said: “ Thou art setting, thou brilliant 
sun of my hopes—those grand destinies foreshadowed in 
prophetic whispers are fast gliding into realities. Aye ! 
to Rome !—to triumph !—to martyrdom ! ” 

He then gave orders to strike the tents and prepare for 
general march on the morrow. Dismissing all from his 
tent he remained alone to commune with God in grati¬ 
tude for the felicity of that day. He paced his tent 
rapidlythe vision of his future martyrdom passed before 
him. We hear, in fancy, the majestic tones of his fer¬ 
vent soliloquy:— 

“ Aye ! to triumph !—to step from the golden chariot 
to the tomb—to climb the glittering heights of the 
Capitol amid the shouts that rend the heavens with 
blasphemies against my God—to kindle the fires of im¬ 
pure sacrifice to the demons of idolatry ! Rather shall 
Placidus be cast on the burning pile, and be himself the 
victim. 

“ In the dreams of young and misguided ambition I 
coveted the honour now within my grasp, but in the 
light of the higher destiny that follows, ’tis but a beauti¬ 
ful shadow that floats before the infatuated fancy, like 
gilded bubbles on the stream, that break into thin air 
when we attempt to seize them. 

" My children! will ye drink of my cup 1 Will you 
ride in the same chariot, and drink a chalice of earthly 


THE ROMAN GENERAL. 


93 


joy till you reach the atrium of the temple of Jupiter; 
then be bound to the same stake; the flames of our 
funeral pyre shall send our freed spirits to the land of 
eternal triumph, where the shout of real joy shall ring 
out the congratulation of Heaven’s choirs for our Chris¬ 
tian victory ! 

“ Poor Theopista! thy noble soul is still wanting to 
complete the holocaust 1 Art thou pining away in some 
villain’s home ? 

“ ‘ Perchance you died in youth ' K it may be bow’d 
With woes far heavier than the ponderous tomb, 

That weigh’d upon thy gentle dust—a cloud 
Might gather o’er thy beauty, and a gloom 
In thy dark eye, prophetic of the doom 
Heaven gives its favourites—early death.’” 

He was interrupted by a servant announcing that the 
poor woman who owned the garden on which his tent was 
pitched, wished to see him. Placidus was not a proud, 
austere man, who left the business of the poor to be 
transacted by a cruel and heartless official. He was 
accessible to the roughest soldier in his camp, as well as 
to the highest of his officers. By a sign of his hand, he 
signified assent to have her brought before him. 

She seemed advanced in years, and the victim of much 
sorrow. Her attenuated frame, and the meanness of her 
dress, told of want and poverty; yet her bearing was 
noble. Her eyes were bloodshot, and showed signs 
of much weeping; tears had traced their own channels 
down her cheeks ; but her countenance still, in all its 
tender expression of care and grief, showed evident traces 
of beauty, nobility, and innocence. Having entered the 
tent, she fell on her knees before Placidus, and said :— 

“ Great chief and leader of the armies of Rome! I be- 


94 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


seech thee to commiserate the sorrows of a poor unfortu¬ 
nate woman. I am a Eoman citizen. Some years ago I 
was separated from my husband and children, and brought 
here by force for unlawful purposes; but I pledge my 
word, before thee and before Heaven, I never lost my 
fidelity to my husband and my children. I am here an 
exile, in sorrow and misery. I ask thee, by the love 
thou bearest to thy own spouse and children, to take me 
back to Rome—to my friends—to my-”* 

She could say no more. In her excitement she sprang 
to her feet—she clasped her hands—and looking fixedly 
at Placidus, she recognized her husband. At the mo¬ 
ment she appealed to him for the love he bore his spouse, 
the aged general raised his hand to his forehead to hide 
the ever ready tell-tale tear of his afflicted heart. In 
turning his head he exposed a large scar on the back of 
his ear; the quick eye of the matron recognized the 
wound her husband received in the Judaic wars, and one 
steady look at the worn and changed features of Placidus 
convinced her. She rushed towards him, and with sobs 
that choked every word : 

“ Tell me, I beseech thee, art thou Placidus—the mas¬ 
ter of the Roman horse—whom the true God spoke to 
in the mountains of Italy—who was baptized—called 
Eustachius—lost his wife ” 

“ Yes ! yes! ” interrupted Placidus. “ Knowest thou 
of her 1 Speak !—does she still live 1 ” 

The poor creature made an effort to throw herself into 


* Deprecor te Domine ego de terra Romanorum sum et eaptiva 
adducfca hue, etc., et usque hodie servavit Dominus castitatem meam. 



THE ROMAN GENERAL. 


95 


his arms, but, overcome by emotion, fell to the ground, 
crying out, “I am Theopista!”* 

The weakened frame of Theopista could not bear the 
shock of the sudden discovery. When motion returned, 
she was still delirious, and seemed like one who saw a 
beautiful dream passing before her. At times her reason 
returned, and she would ask, “ Is it true? Does the evil 
spirit create phantasms to deceive me ? Oh; how good 
is God ! " 

Anothei hour, and the little tent of Placidus was the 
scene of joy seldom felt on this side of the grave. Four 
widowed and bleeding hearts were healed; the husband 
and the spouse, the parents and the children, after years 
of separation and trial, were thrown together and recog¬ 
nised in the space of a few hours. Almighty God had 
never abandoned them for a moment from the time He 
decreed the vicissitudes which were to try them; finding 
them faithful, He knew how to reward. The flood of 
joy which He pours on the faithful hearts of His servants 
is but as a stray rivulet of the mighty stream of ineffable 
delight that inundates the souls of the beatified. If 
Christians would remember that God watches with a spe¬ 
cial providence over the afflicted—that the troubles and 
trials of life are often directly sent by Him—how many 
a pang would lose its sting, how many a bitter loss and 
disappointment would become, not only supportable, but 
the source of interior peace ! The troubled soul humbly 
kneeling before the crucifix is the type of the true Chris¬ 
tian. If the strange history of Placidus should fall into 
the hands of any one in trouble, let him, like that brave 


* Et surgens ruit in amplexus, etc. 


96 


THE MARTYRS OF TI1E COLISEUM. 


and generous soul, await the dispositions of Providence 
without blasphemy,suppressing even a reproachful thought 
towards God, and every murmur of impatience ; as 
sure as the hour of trial and affliction is long and dark, 
so shall the hour of reward come quickly, brilliantly, 
and unclouded. 

Greater joy than the soul can long bear in its earthly 
tenement is prepared by God for this happy family. 
Their union here is to last but for a few weeks. When 
the camp was struck, and the army on the march to Rome 
Placidus knew, by inspiration, that he was going to the 
last and most severe struggle which God had in store for 
him—his triumph in death over self, the world, and the 
powers of darkness. He gave all his time to prayer and 
the instruction of his sons in the sublime morality and 
doctrine of the Christian faith. He asked a favour from 
God, which was granted—that as He had deigned, in his 
mercy, to bring him again to the embraces of his family, 
the happiness of their union might never again be clouded 
by separation; that if the testimony of his blood were 
demanded for the defence of the faith and the glory of the 
Church, his spouse and children might partake in the 
same last crowning favour of the Divine mercy. 

Whilst the legions are on their march from the East, 
let us go before them to the great capital, and prepare 
our readers for scenes that are about to follow. The 
beautiful and touching history of the noble Roman general 
is to have a tragic termination—one of the brightest in 
the pages of the Church, but one of the darkest in the 
long annals of pagan ingratitude and cruelty. 


97 


THE ROMAN GENERAL. 

6 . 

The weak and superstitious Adrian was sitting on the 
throne of the Caesars. He was a man of little ability, but 
of a low, deceitful and cruel disposition. He was capable 
of all the horrors which disgraced the reigns of some of his 
predecessors; but the public opinion was sick of whole¬ 
sale bloodshed, and the awful deaths that closed the in¬ 
famous career of those tyrants made the worthless Adrian 
tremble, and checked the brutal propensities of his 
impious heart. He was disposed to put in force the laws 
of persecution against the Christians, and stain again the 
great centres of public execution with the blood of hun¬ 
dreds of innocent subjects ; but the example of his pre¬ 
decessor seemed to be his guiding star. Under Trajan 
the Empire was prosperous, and the enemies of the East 
were conquered, and new provinces were added to its 
boundaries; yet, in his hypocritical policy of conciliation, 
men of note among the Christians were publicly executed ; 
their blood was intended to be the pledge of his piety to 
the depions of public worship. In the first part of his 
reign, he placed a superstitious confidence in the gods; 
and the highest exercise of pagan piety was the condem¬ 
nation of the contemners of those gods. These of neces¬ 
sity were the Christians; but fear, imbecility, and a 
ridiculous piety seemed to clash in his character, and, like 
negatives, destroyed each other. The consequence was, 
that the Christians in his reign enjoyed a tolerable peace. 

Yet martyrdoms occasionally took place. St. Sympli- 
orosa suffered under Adrian ; and herself and seven 
children commemorate in ecclesiastical history the com-, 
pletion of his immense villa near Tivoli: the ivy-clad 
G 


98 THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 

walls of its surviving ruins are now the favourite stop¬ 
ping-place for excursionists to the ancient Tibur. Amongst 
others, we find on the list of martyrs during this reign 
the servant-girl of the celebrated Tertullian, named Mary; 
SS. Alexander and Sixtus, Popes; St. Denis the Areo- 
pagite, and many more, of whom not the least remarkable 
was the hero of our present notice, and his family. All 
agree that the persecution of this time was irregular, and 
depended in a great measure on the fickle, impetuous, 
and cruel disposition of the Emperor. It was never 
during his reign completely extinct, but, like living embers 
occasionally burst into a flame, and then died away 
again. 

Adrian had a great taste for architecture, and the re¬ 
pose which the Empire enjoyed during his reign allowed 
him to turn his attention to this favourite pursuit. Some 
of the most wonderful ruins of antiquity, which have 
withstood the shock of centuries, bear the stamp of his 
pride and prodigality. The Tiber, the Danube, the 
Rhine, and the Tyne in England still bear on their banks 
the mouldering ruins of bridges and tombs, castles and 
fortifications, which look down on the mighty rivers that 
flow as regularly and majestically as time itself, ever 
young in the vitality of nature. Of all the Roman Em¬ 
perors, the name of Adrian is the most familiar to the 
pilgrim who visits the Eternal City. The stranger, after 
arriving in Rome, on his way to the Church of St. Peter, 
the greatest wonder of modern art, crosses the bridge and 
passes under the Castle of St. Angelo ; these are the two 
first monuments of antiquity which catch his eye—they 
are the works of Adrian. Centuries of war and devas¬ 
tation, and the rains and storms of nearly seventeen hun- 


TEE ROM AX GENERAL . 


99 


dred winters, have shorn the mighty mausoleum of its 
ornaments, but its massive, indestructible walls still serve 
as a fortress, a prison, and a castle, and, like a rock of 
nature, it looks down on passing generations: for cen¬ 
turies yet to come it will stand on the banks of the Tiber 
as a landmark by the stream of time ! 

“ Turn to the mole which Adrian reared on high, 

Imperial mimic of old Egypt’s piles. 

Colossal copyist of deformity ; 

Whose travelled phantasy from the far Nile’s 
Enormous model doomed the artist’s toils 
To build for giants, and for his vain earth, 

His shrunken ashes, raise this dome ! How smiles 
The gazer’s eye with philosophic mirth, 

To view the huge design that sprung from such a birth ! ” 

—Childb Harolp. 

Over the venerable pile now stands the rainbow of the 
modern covenant—the angel of God sheathing the fiery 
sword of justice. It was erected to commemorate a vision 
given to one of the greatest of the Popes—a meet symbol 
of the most remarkable epoch of Roman history, portray¬ 
ing not only the termination of a momentary scourge, 
but the close of the bloody days of persecution, and the 
commencement of the peaceful reign of the Pontificate 
for the universal benefit of mankind. 

At the time we write, the sun of Rome’s golden age 
had passed the meridian, and was in the second or third 
hour of its decline. Yet the splendour and magnificence 
of the city was beyond description. The tract of level 
ground that expanded like an arena from the Capitol, 
Quirinal, and Pincian Hills to the Tiber, was adorned in 
its entire extent with theatres, hippodromes, places for 
various warlike spectacles and games, with temples, sur¬ 
rounded with groves of evergreens, and interwoven one 


100 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


with the other by shady walks and velvet lawns ; while 
monuments and trophies of snowy whiteness and of every 
order lined the river side to the water’s edge. The his¬ 
tory of the city’s triumphs, written in marble and traver¬ 
tine, from the column of Duilius, down to the magnificent 
column which had just been finished in memory of the 
deceased Emperor Trajan, presented a scene so fascinat¬ 
ing, that Strabo, in his description, says it was almost 
impossible to tear one’s eyes from beholding it. But 
towering above all, like an alp of marble, rose the mau¬ 
soleum or tomb of Augustus Caesar, where the arms of 
the Julian family and of many Emperors were placed. 
When any of them were to be deified or added to the 
number of the gods (a ceremony which Adrian performed 
for Trajan), his body was carried with great pomp and 
ceremony on a couch of gold, and placed on the summit 
of a pile of odoriferous wood; as the flame began to as¬ 
cend towards the corpse, an eagle, fastened there for the 
purpose, was permitted to take wing, that it might be re¬ 
garded by the applauding thousands as the genius or 
“mens divinior” of the Emperor soaring aloft to the 
skies. Whilst we smile with the sarcasm of philosophy 
and the knowledge of faith, we are struck with the poetry 
and skill of the benighted past. 

A triumph was accorded to Trajan for his many vic¬ 
tories. He was a warlike man, and went himself at the 
head of his legions to the field of battle. It was on his 
way to Armenia he condemned the holy Bishop of Antioch; 
and his choice of Placidus to conduct the legions to the 
Syrian frontier was because he was threatened with revo¬ 
lution in the more important territory of Parthia. He 
had, therefore, resolved, in case war was declared, to go 



THE ROMAN GENERAL. 


101 


himself in person to subdue the enemies of this part of 
the Empire. It happened as he had anticipated, and he 
went on the expedition, but he never returned to Rome. 
He died during the campaign. Nevertheless, a triumph 
was decreed to him; and Adrian, who was one of his 
commanding officers, being declared by the soldiers his 
successor, wrote to the Senate to intimate that he would 
in his own person represent the deceased conqueror. 

A triumph was the highest ambition of the Romans; 
it was the next thing to divine honour, and outshone in 
splendour all other spectacles of the city. According to 
the legal usage, no general was entitled to this honour 
who had not slain five thousand enemies of the republic 
in one battle, and by that victory enlarged its territory. 
But whoever had the fortune to have it decreed to him, 
advanced with the first dawn from the Vatican fields at 
the head ot his companions in-arms to the triumphal gate. 
Here, after a slight repast, he was invested with the tri¬ 
umphal robes; the accustomed rites to the deities sta¬ 
tioned at the gate were performed, and then the procession 
moved along the Via Triumphalis, the streets, ranged with 
altars smoking with incense, being thickly strewn with 
flowers. 

In the beautiful work of Dr. Miley on “ Rome under 
Paganism and the Popes,” there is a description of the 
procession of the triumph. There are items in the for¬ 
mality of the ceremony to which we must allude. 

“ First went musicians of various kinds, singing and 
playing triumphal songs ; next were led the oxen to be 
sacrificed, having their horns gilt, and their heads 
adorned with fillets and garlands ; then in carriages were 
brought the spoils taken from the enemy—statues, pic- 


102 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


tures, plate, armour, gold and silver and brass, also golden 
crowns and other gifts sent by the allied and tributary 
states. The titles of the vanquished nations were in¬ 
scribed on wooden frames, on which were borne the images 
or representations of the conquered countries and cities. 
The captive leaders and princes followed in chains, with 
their children, kindred and courtiers ; after these captives 
came the lictors or executioners (having their hatchets or 
fasces wreathed with laurel), followed by a great com¬ 
pany of musicians and dancers, dressed like satyrs, and 
crowned with wreaths of gold. In the midst of them 
was a clown clothed in female garb, whose business it was 
with looks and gestures to insult the vanquished. Next 
followed a long train of persons carrying perfumes. Then 
came the conqueror, dressed in purple and gold, and a 
crown of laurel on his head, and a branch of laurel in his 
right hand, and in his left an ivory sceptre with an eagle 
on the top. His face was painted with vermilion, in like 
manner as the statue of Jupiter on festival days, and a 
golden ball was suspended from his neck, with some amu¬ 
let in it or magical preservative against envy. His chariot, 
in which he stood erect, glittered with gold and was 
adorned with ivory; and from the time probably of the 
Tarquins, certainly of Camillus, was usually drawn by 
four white horses, and sometimes by elephants or other 
singular wild animals. He was attended by his relations, 
clientage, and a vast concourse of citizens, all in white 
togas. His children used to ride in the chariot along with 
him ; and that he might not be too much elated, a slave, 
carrying a golden crown sparkling with gems, crouched 
behind him, frequently whispering in his ear, ‘ Kemember 
thou art a man.’ His chariot was followed by the con- 


THE ROMAN GENERAL. 


103 


suls and senators on foot; his legati and military tribunes 
or staff-officers commonly rode by his side. The victori¬ 
ous army, horse and foot, came last, in martial array, 
crowned with laurel, and decorated with the gifts they 
had received for their valour, and chanting their own 
praises and those of the general, whom they sometimes 
assailed with railleries. Shouts of ‘Io triumph e ’ fre-’j 
quently bursting from the warrior ranks, and chorused 
by myriads of the Roman people, re-echoed along the 
Tiber’s banks among the valleys of the seven hills, and 
seemed to shake the rock-built Capitol itself. 

“ Arrived at the Forum, and before his chariot began to 
climb the hill of triumphs, through the crowded temples 
that rose along its acclivities, the conqueror ordered the 
captive kings and chieftains of the vanquished nations to 
be led away by the executioners and put to death in the 
Gemonium , the horrid dungeon, of the Mamertine prison, 
which was at the foot of the Capitol to the right. 

“ On reaching the Temple of Jupiter, it was the usage 
for him to wait till informed by the appointed officers 
that his sanguinary orders had been complied with; and 
then, having offered incense to Jupiter and other gods 
for his successes, he commanded the victims, which were 
always white, from the pastures of Clitumnus, to be 
sacrificed, and deposited his golden diadem in the lap of 
Jove, to whom he also dedicated a great portion of the 
spoils.”* 

The games and rejoicings of a triumph continued for 
some weeks. They were celebrated in the circus and 
amphitheatre, games which partook more of the character 

* Miley, “ Rome under Paganism and the Popes,” voJ. ii, chap. 3. 


104 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


of a scourge than of an amusement, consisting of whole* 
sale immolations of human and animal victims. The 
expenditure of the public money on those occasions was 
enormous: nothing was spared which ingenuity or skill 
could suggest. After the popular excitement had sub¬ 
sided, and the pantomime of adulation had sufficiently 
deified the conqueror, some stupendous arch or column 
was erected to commemorate through future generations 
the merits of the hero, and the triumph of the .Roman 
arms. Some of these monuments of triumph are still 
standing amidst the ruins of Rome, and are undoubtedly 
the best records we have of the magnificence of the 
ancient city. 

Adrian entered Rome in the borrowed glory of the 
deceased Emperor; the shouts of triumph resounded 
through the city; he deified Trajan from the tomb of 
Augustus, and sent the eagle of his spirit to the liberty 
of the skies ; he dedicated the superb column erected to 
the conqueror, and the arena of the Coliseum was once 
more reeking with the blood of gladiators and victims. 
During these games more than two hundred lions were 
slaughtered, and an immense number of captives and 
slaves were put to death. 

It was one evening during these celebrations, that 
word was brought to the city that the army of Placidus 
had arrived, and was already on the Appian Way. A new 
impulse was given to the rejoicings, and a new triumph 
and procession were prepared for the victorious army. 
There is nothing so calculated to excite a people’s en¬ 
thusiasm as the return of its armies from a triumphant 
campaign. Those who remember the day on which the 
heroes of the Crimea landed on the shores of England 


THE ROMAN GENERAL. 


105 


can well picture the veteran armies of Rome entering the 
capital in triumph. According to custom the Emperor 
went out to meet the general, and embraced him.* As 
the evening was far advanced, and the sun was already- 
sinking beneath the blue Mediterranean, the Emperor 
gave orders that the army should encamp outside the 
walls for the night, in order to enter the city in triumph 
next morning. Placidus and his family returned with 
the Emperor to the Palatine, and were entertained at a 
sumptuous banquet. He gave the Emperor the history 
of his campaign, and spoke until a late hour of his battles, 
his conquests, the bravery of his two sons, and the ex¬ 
traordinary discovery of his wife and family.t 

Loud, shrill and cheerful were the trumpet blasts that 
roused the sleeping army on the following morning. 
The cup of joy for these poor creatures was full to the 
brim. They knew of no greater reward for years of 
hardship and trial, for the scars and wounds which dis¬ 
abled them for life, than the shouts of a brutal and bar¬ 
barous mob, who hailed them along the road of triumph. 

As they poured in through the gates, each of them 
received a laurel crown, whose freshness and beauty con¬ 
trasted deeply with the sunburnt features and tattered 
garments of the veterans. Round their necks and about 
theii persons they carried a profusion of tinsel trinkets, 
whic h they took from the conquered people as ornaments 
for their wives and children. There were waggons 
drawn by oxen laden with spoils, that made the massive 
pavements of the Appian Way creak; armour, gold and 

* Reverso ergo Eustachio occurrit ei imperator ut mos est Romanis 
et victorias festivitates celebravit. — lb. 

f Prolixius extendit convivium etc.— Ib. No. 20. 


106 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


brass ornaments, wild animals in cages, and everything 
that could show the habits and manners of the conquered 
people. The general, together with his wife and two 
sons, was in a gilt chariot, drawn by four white horses, 
in the rear of his army. None of the pride and flush of 
drunken joy that characterised the pagan conqueror was 
to be seen in the meek countenance of Placidus. All 
this rejoicing and gorgeous display was to him and his 
Christian family the funeral pomp that led them to their 
tomb. * The king who, on his death-bed, had himself 
invested with his crown and royal robes to meet death as 
a monarch, was a picture of Placidus led in triumph to 
martyrdom—a tale of the emptiness and instability of 
human greatness, often told in the vicissitudes of history ! 
He was silent and collected; not even the deafening 
peals of applause from crowds of idle spectators, who 
made his name ring through the palaces and tombs that 
bend over the streets from the Capena gate to the Forum, 
induced him to look up with the smile of joyful appro¬ 
bation. He was well aware that in a few moments his 
belief in Christianity would be declared, for he could not 
sacrifice to the gods. 

Whilst the procession was moving along, a murmur 
passed through the crowd. They asked one another 
where were the victims 1 —where the captive chiefs 1 
—where the slaves usually dragged at the chariot 
wheels of the conqueror?—where the wailing matrons 
and daughters of the conquered race to sound the mourn¬ 
ful music of triumph ? Arrived at the Forum, the pro¬ 
cession halted as usual, and the executioners and keepers 
of the Mamertine prison looked in vain for their victims ; 
it was the first time in the annals of triumph that their 


THE ROMAN GENERAL . 


107 


axes had not been steeped in the blood of heroes, whose 
only crime was that they fought bravely for their homes 
and their countries. They knew nothing of the sublime 
morality that can forgive an enemy. Placidus pardoned 
the moment he had conquered, and instead of dragging 
helpless victims from their country and family, to be 
immolated to the demons of Rome, he left his name in 
the traces of his march in love and benediction. 

But now the procession arrived at the entrance to the 
Temple of Jupiter. The priests were waiting in their 
robes, and snow-white oxen, with gilded horns and 
crowns of flowers, were held by the altar. Immense 
faggots were blazing in the heart of the temple to con¬ 
sume the victims, and fragrant incense was burning in 
golden vessels. Placidus and his family descended from 
their chariot and stepped on one side; they refused to 
enter; they would not sacrifice. 

If an earthquake had shaken the temple to its 
foundations, or a sudden eclipse had darkened the sun, 
there could not have been given a greater shock or 
surprise to the assembled thousands. The news ran 
like fire in a train of powder through the vast crowd. 
A deep heavy murmur, like the swell of the troubled 
deep breaking on its boundaries, rose from the multi¬ 
tudes in the Forum. Indignation and fury were the 
passions that swayed the mob. The demon of paganism 
reigned in their hearts; pity, justice and liberty were 
virtues unknown. From shouts of applause with which 
they hailed Placidus as the conqueror, the glory of the 
Empire, and the beloved of the martial god, they now 
hooted him with groans and hisses; and loudly from the 
gilded temples of the Capitol were echoed the terrible 


108 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


cries of “ Death to the Christians! ”—“ Away with the 
Christians! ” But the hour of another and grander 
triumph had come for our hero. Let us hurry through 
the dark picture of cruelty and ingratitude that closed 
his career on this side of the grave, to usher in the 
triumph that was to last for ever. 

The noble general and his family were brought before 
the Emperor. Was Adrian glad to have Placidus brought 
before him as a criminal 1 Doubtless he looked with a 
jealous eye on the glory, popularity and real triumph of 
one who, a few months before, was his equal as a com¬ 
mander of the army, and his acknowledged superior in 
skill and attainments, whilst his own triumph was but a 
mockery—the borrowed plumes of a deceased hero, 
whose panegyric he reluctantly preached from the chariot 
of triumph. Moreover, weak-minded and servile, he must 
have rejoiced in an opportunity of pandering to the 
depraved taste of a cruel and brutal mob, who were 
accustomed to look on all authority as usurpation and 
oppression, and who hated Christianity with satanic 
virulence. Like Trajan, he determined to prove his 
piety towards the gods by the public execution of the 
greatest man in the Empire. He received the old chief 
in the Temple of Apollo, and, in a prepared speech, pre¬ 
tended what he never felt—sympathy for his folly. When 
asked by the haughty Adrian why he would not sacrifice 
to the gods, Placidus answered, bravely and fearlessly, 
“I am a Christian, and adore only the true God.” 

“ Whence comes this infatuation ? ” asked the Emperor, 
quickly. “ Why lose all the glory of the triumph, and 
bring thy grey hairs to shame? Dost thou not know 
that I have power to put thee to a miserable death ?” 


THE ROMAN GENERAL. 


109 


Placidus meekly replied : “ My body is in your power, 
but my soul belongs to Him who created it. Never shall 
I forget the mercy He has shown me in calling me to the 
knowledge of Himself, and I rejoice to be able to suffer 
for Him. You may command me to lead your legions 
against the enemies of the Empire, but never will I offer 
sacrifice to any other god than the One great and power¬ 
ful God who created all things, stretched out the heavens 
in their glory, decked the earth in its beauty, and created 
man to serve Him; He alone is worthy of sacrifice; all 
other gods are but demons who deceive men.” 

So also answered his wife and two sons. They ban¬ 
tered the Emperor himself for his folly in worshipping 
senseless pieces of marble and wood. In vain did Adrian 
try promises and threats, and all the silly arguments 
which were used in the defence of paganism. The faith¬ 
ful family were inflexible; the eloquence of Placidus was 
simple, but powerful and earnest; and the palpable de¬ 
feat of Adrian in his attempt to reason with one gifted 
with the eloquence promised to those dragged before 
earthly tribunals, roused his pride and his cruelty, and 
the desire of revenge. The Coliseum stood but a few 
paces from them; the games were going on; the criminals 
and slaves of the Empire were the daily victims of its 
amusements. The condemnation of Placidus would be a 
stroke of policy to enhance the prosperity of his reign ; 
it was the fullest gratification of the cruel passions of 
jealousy and revenge which the demon had stirred up in 
his heart; he ordered the Christian general and his family 
to be exposed to the wild beasts in the amphitheatre. 

There is a convent of the Sisters of the Visitation now 
erected on the spot where this interview took place, and 


110 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


they sing in their office the beautiful and prophetic psalm 
of David, “ Quare fremuenint gentes ,” &c.—“ Why have 
the Gentiles raged, and the people devised vain things 1 
The kings of the earth stood up, and the princes met 
together against the Lord and against His Christ: Let 
us break their bonds asunder, and let us cast away their 
yoke from us. He that dwelleth in heaven shall laugh 
at them, and the Lord shall deride them ” (Ps. ii.). How 
sublime the idea suggested by the matin-song of the poor 
sisters, gliding over the silent and ivy-clad ruins of the 
fallen palace of the Csesars, whence came the direful per¬ 
secutions of the Church, and all that the powers of dark¬ 
ness, impersonated in the impious Csesars of Borne, could 
do to destroy Christianity in its infancy ! 

It is probable that Placidus and his family passed that 
night in the dark and fetid prison of the Mamertine. 
This was a cell cut out of the solid rock at the foot of 
the Capitol. It consisted of two chambers, one over the 
other, which could only be entered by apertures in the 
ceiling (recently a commodious flight of stairs has been 
erected). The lower and most gloomy of these chambers 
was destined for persons condemned to death. These 
prisons have been in existence for nearly three thousand 
years, and with the cloacce, or great sewers of the city, are 
the most perfect monuments of the kingly period. In 
classical literature the prisons are mentioned as the 
Gemonium or Tullian Keep. The historian Sallust, who 
flourished about fifty years before Christ, speaking of 
Cataline, writes thus : “ In the prison called the Tullian, 
there is a place about ten feet deep, when you have 
descended a little to the left. It is surrounded on the 
sides by walls, and is closed above by a vaulted roof of 


THE ROMAN GENERAL. 


Ill 


stone. The appearance of it, from the filth, the darkness, 
and the smell, is terrific.” Nothing can be imagined more 
horrible or gloomy than this dungeon in the days of its 
terrors. The light of the sun had never entered its dark 
recess, and its stench and filth generated a poison fatal 
to the human frame. Here Jugurtha was starved to 
death; here Vercingetorix, a Gaulish leader, was mur¬ 
dered by order of Julius Csesar; and the companions of 
Cataline were strangled by order of Cicero. Here the 
wretched Sejanus, the favourite of Tiberius, met a merited 
death; and here, too, a Jewish leader, named Joras, was 
put to death by order of Vespasian. But it is far more 
remarkable in the annals of the Church for its martyrs 
and Christian heroes than for its antiquity or political 
history. It was in this dreary abode that the Apostle St. 
Peter passed nine months, and converted his gaolers, 
Processus and Martinianus, and forty-seven others. To 
this day is shown the column to which the Apostle was 
bound, and the spring of water that is said by a pious 
tradition to have miraculously sprung up through the 
rock that he might baptize those whom he converted. It 
is a strange fact that the chair or throne of Pius IX. at 
the Vatican Council was erected over the altar of the 
martyrs Processus and Martinianus, who, eighteen hun¬ 
dred and six years ago, led to the dark prisons of the 
Mamertine the first King of the imperishable dynasty of 
the Papacy. Many holy confessors and martyrs have 
consecrated these prisons by their prayers, their tears, and 
their miracles; and there are few spots in Rome so rich 
in the sacred treasures of the past, more holy, or more 
attractive, than the Mamertine. It was reserved in a 
special manner for state-prisoners and persons of distinc- 


112 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


tion, and hence, although the Acts of the Saint do not 
mention it, we have every reason to presume that Placidus 
and his family passed the night before their martyrdom in 
this horrible dungeon. But faith and the consolations of 
prayer can cast light into the darkest prisons; no external 
darkness or material affliction can blight the joy of the 
faithful soul.* 

Next morning, the 20th of September, A.D. 120, the 
people were hastening in tens of thousands to the Coli¬ 
seum. They knew what had taken place; they had 
heard of the condemnation by the Emperor, and surprise 
and indignation at the discovery that the general belonged 
to the hated sect of Christians seemed to be expressed in 
the frown on their darkened features. Had he been an 
assassin, or a highway robber, or a political prisoner, who 
had plotted the ruin of the Empire, pity would have 
been murmured on every lip, a reprieve would have been 
called for, and the mob would have saved him ; but deep 
and bitter must ever be the animosity of the demons 
who revel in the spirit of error and wage war against the 
truth. A marvellous and intense hatred of the Catholic 
Church has ever been the characteristic feature of unbe¬ 
lief, from paganism down to every shade of modem 
Protestantism; the intensity of that hostility may be 
measured in proportion to the total or partial rejection 
of revelation. 

No nation could be sunk more deeply in idolatry, sen¬ 
suality and vice than the great Empire whose capital 
has been considered the Babylon of impiety spoken of in 

* The author of this work has in preparation the history of the 
Mamertine prison and its martyrs. It is the oldest monument of 
ancient Rome and is deeply interesting in its sacred reminiscenses. 


THE ROMAN GENERAL . 


113 


the Apocalypse. “ Our wrestling,” says St. Paul, “ is 
not against flesh and blood, but against principalities and 
powers, against the rulers of the world of this darkness, 
against the spirits of wickedness in the high places” 
(Eph. vi. 12). It was not in an amphitheatre stained 
with the blood of wild beasts and gladiators, and filled 
with an excited and unfeeling crowd, that the voice of 
pity or reason could be heard; the impatient clamours 
of the multitude denounced the Christians as the enemies 
of the gods and men, and the public condemnation of the 
Christian general had already rung loudly and repeatedly 
through the benches of the Coliseum. The coming of 
the Emperor was announced, the buzz of conversation was 
hushed, and all eyes were turned towards the entrance 
on the side of the Esquiline, which was specially reserved 
for the royal cortege. As soon as he entered the amphi¬ 
theatre, all rose ; the lictors lowered their fasces, and the 
senators and vestals bowed profoundly. Shouts of “ great ,” 
“immortal” “divine,” resounded from every seat. The 
crowd of spectators was nothing more than an assembly 
of miscreant slaves, who trembled at the beck of their 
rulers. Although the spectators of the Coliseum fre¬ 
quently hated the Emperor as an oppressor and a tyrant, 
yet, in the wild frenzy of fear, they cried out with lying 
tongues that he alone was great and powerful. He car¬ 
ried a sceptre of ivory, surmounted with a golden eagle, 
and a slave followed, bearing over his head a crown of 
solid gold and precious stones. As soon as he was seated, 
the shrill blast of a trumpet called for silence and the 
commencement of the games. After the procession of 
the unfortunate wretches who were to take part in the 
cruel sport of that day’s programme and the sham fight 
H 


114 


THE MARTYRS OF TI1E COLISEUM. 


of the gladiators, it was usual to commence with sports 
of agility and skill, but on this day the order was changed. 
The crowd called for the condemnation of the Christians, 
and the Emperor gave the order that Placidus and his 
family be exposed to the wild beasts. 

They were led into the arena in chains. They were 
silent and rapt in prayer. The editor of the games asked 
them again to sacrifice to the gods , they refused. The 
keepers were told to let in some wild beasts to devour 
them. A death-like stillness reigned around. Every one 
was struck with their fortitude ; no screams of terror, no 
trembling, no supplications for mercy, no heart-rending 
and frantic farewells ; all was calm and tranquil; they 
awaited on bended knees with majestic resignation their 
awful doom. The iron doors of the subterranean keeps 
grated on their hinges ; two lions and four bears rushed 
into the arena. 

They would not touch the martyrs but gambolled 
around them; one of the lions endeavoured to get his 
head under the foot of Placidus* ; the saint permitted it, 
and a more beautiful or .thrilling sight was never seen in 
the arena of the Coliseum. The king of the forest vol¬ 
untarily put himself under the foot of the unarmed old 
man, and crouched down as if with fear and reverence. 
“ Goad the animals ! ” shouted the enraged Emperor to 
the keepers. “ Goad them on ! ” “ Make them devour ! ” 
rang from every tier, from the senators, the vestals, and 
the maddened populace of the upper circles ; but the 
animals turned on their keepers, and drove them from 
the arena. Other animals were called for, but they only 


etc. 


Accurrens ver o leo et stans prope Beatos et submittens caput, 


THE ROMAN GENERAL . 


115 


served to enhance the scene of triumph, and respectfully 
licked the feet of their intended victims. He who made 
use of an animal to bring Placidus to the light of faith, 
and afterwards to be the instruments of his trial and his 
sorrow, now made them declare His love and protection 
over His servants. 

The indignation and shame of the pagan Emperor was 
roused to the highest pitch; his impotent rage and 
natural cruelty broke forth, and to gratify his brutal 
passion, he commanded the martyrs to be placed in the 
bronze bull, and to be consumed by a slow fire. This 
was a horrible instrument of torture and execution used 
for the persecution of the Christians. It was made in 
the shape of a bull, and could hold several persons at the 
same time in its hollow womb; when fire was applied 
beneath, it became an oven, and it is not difficult to ima¬ 
gine the excruciating torture a slow fire must have 
caused to its living victims. We find from several au¬ 
thorities that this dreadful instrument of execution was 
in use both before and long after the time of Adrian, and 
thus many martyrs were put to death. 

In this way Placidus and his family received their 
crown. Almighty God wished to show it was His will, 
and not the commands of the Emperor, or the instru¬ 
ments of torture that deprived his servants of life, by 
performing a great miracle. After three days the bodies 
of the Saints were taken out in the presence of the Em¬ 
peror } no trace of fire was to be seen upon them ; they 
exhaled a beautiful odour, and seemed to be lying in a 
sweet sleep. Their relics were laid on the ground for 
several days, and the whole city rushed to see the won- 


] ] 6 THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 

der.* As Almighty God does nothing in vain, many were 
converted by this miracle, and became fervent Christians. 
The bodies of the glorious martyrs were stolen by the 
Christians, and were afterwards buried, together with the 
brazen bull in which they suffered, on the spot where 
their martyrdom took place. A beautiful church sprung 
up in the very earliest ages of Christianity over the shrine 
of Eustachius and his family. That divine institution 
which spreads its maternal wings over every sacred de¬ 
posit left in her bosom has preserved with scrupulous 
care the shrines and relics of the heroes of the past. In 
the very heart of modern Rome there now stands a 
favourite church, which has been rebuilt and repaired 
several times during the last fifteen hundred years, and 
still commemorates the name and preserves the relics of 
the brave and virtuous Placidus. In the same urn lie 
the hallowed remains of his faithful spouse and child¬ 
ren, awaiting the trumpet call of the angel of the last 
day. 

The Bollandists enter into a long and learned discus¬ 
sion concerning the authenticity of the Acts of Eustachius, 
which they give in the original Greek version. Although 
in the above narrative we have endeavoured to avoid the 
monotony of isolated facts, and have cast around the 
romantic history of this great Saint an imaginary dress, 
yet we have substantially adhered to the facts given in the 
Acts. The obscurity and doubt which the lapse of seven¬ 
teen centuries, and the extraordinary character of the 

* Post tres autem dies venit impiissimus imperator in locum et 
prsecepit aperiri serearn machinam ut videret quid factum esset de 
reliquiis Sanctorum, et videntes corpora eorum putaverunt eos ad hue 
vivere et ejicientes posuerunt eos super terrain. —Acts, 10, 


THE ROMAN GENERAL. 


117 


facts recorded, must necessarily make us hesitate to de¬ 
clare this strange story an incontestable fact. Yet it 
seems to stand the test of the strictest examination. 
Some of the oldest and most remarkable martyrologies 
mention his extraordinary conversion through a stag, 
and his martyrdom in the brazen bull. St. John Damas¬ 
cene quotes the history of Eustacliius in a sermon he 
preached in A.D. 734. Tradition points out the very 
spot in the Apennines where this extraordinary vision 
took place. A small chapel was built there in the fourth 
century, supposed to have been erected by the order of 
Constantine, whose first care, after his conversion and 
triumph, was to dedicate and preserve the shrines of the 
early Church. A rude mosaic of the fourth century, re¬ 
presenting a stag, with a figure between its horns, and 
other events in the life of Eustacliius, was removed from 
this little church, and is still preserved in the Kircherian 
Collection. The learned and trustworthy Baronius, after 
a close examination of the Acts, can only use these words : 
—“ Putamus tamen eis multa superaddita esse,” An. 120 
—(“ We think, however, many things have been added to 
them”). The authors of the Bollandist, however, seem 
to lean to their probability. 

It is useless and absurd to ask why Almighty God used 
these extraordinary means for the conversion of Placidus. 
There are enigmas in the dispensations of the divine fa¬ 
vours that can be solved only by the illumined intelligence 
of the beatified vision. You may as well ask why St. 
Paul was converted on the road to Damascus and not in 
the city, and why made a vessel of election before so 
many others more deserving? Why did our Blessed 
Lord perform one of His greatest miracles with clay 


118 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


moistened with spittle ? Why did he make a poor, sim¬ 
ple fisherman the head of his Church 1 There are things 
written in the sacred records of revelation more extraor¬ 
dinary than anything in the above narrative. Around 
us, in every moment of our existence, and in every por¬ 
tion of the Church of God, there are supernatural inter¬ 
positions of mercy and love—miracles if you wish to call 
them—that no human intelligence can understand. It 
is the height of pride, and the first mark of infidelit} r , to 
scoff at the works of God because they appear strange. 

Who shall set limits to the power or the love of God % 
He who has not the humility and simplicity of faith. 
Although we are not bound under the pain of anathema 
to accept all that is recorded in the lives of the Saints, 
yet we are not prepared to say that they are nothing but 
romances and idle tales. But some of them are, you will 
add. It may be so, but it is difficult to name them. The 
moment you come to examine any one of those strange 
lives that the Church has put under the seal of her re¬ 
commendation, you are driven back with a storm of 
proofs and authority that make you ashamed of your 
doubt. W"e have tried it, and we speak from experience ; 
there is no fair and honest student of history who will not 
acknowledge the same. But there are many ignorant and 
conceited persons in the world, who look at everything 
through the coloured glasses of prejudice; all that is 
strange, consoling, or terrific in the sacred annals of the 
past are to them but glimpses from the regions of fancy, 
and are condemned with the smile of sarcasm ; their faith, 
their past, and their future, is nought but tinsel, shadow 
and unreality. * 

* We can scarcely give the reader a better proof of the authenti¬ 
city of these Acts than by referring him to the sanction given to them 


THE ROMAN GENERAL . 


119 


by the Church ; for in the oldest editions of the Roman Breviary, 
the lessons for the feast of the 20th of September give this strange 
tale in an abbreviated form. We will quote the Latin text, that 
the reader may see the main facts of this tale are perfectly histori¬ 
cal :— 

“ Eustachius, qui et Placidus, genere, opibus et militari gloria 
inter Romanos insignis, sub Trajano Imperatore magistri militum 
titulum meruit; cum vero sese aliquando in venatione exerceret, 
ac fugientem mirse magnitudinis cervum insequeretur, vidit repente 
inter consistentis ferae cornua excelsam atque fulgentem Christi Do¬ 
mini e cruce pendentis imaginem, cujus voce ad immortalis vitae 
praedum invitatus, una cum uxore Theopista, ac duobus parvulis 
filiis, Agapito et Theopisto, Christianae militiae nomen dedit. 

“ Mox ad visionis pristinae locum, sicut ei Dominus praeceperat, 
regressus, ilium praenuntiantem audivit quanti sibi deinceps pro ejus 
gloria perferenda essent. Quo circa incredibiles calamitates mira 
patientia perpessus, brevi in summam egestatem redactus est. Cum- 
que clam se subducere cogeretur, in itinere conjugem primum, deinde 
etiam liberos, sibi miserahiliter ereptos ingemuit. Tantis obvolutus 
aerumnis in regione longinqua vilicum agens longo tempore dilituit; 
donee ccelesti voce recreatus ac nova occasione a Trajano conquisi- 
tus iterum bello prseficitur. 

“ Ilia in expeditione, liberis simul cum uxore insperato receptis, 
victor Urbem ingenti omnium gratulatione ingxeditur. Sed paulo 
post inanibus diis pro parta victoria sacrificare jussus, constantissime 
renuit. Cumque variis artibus ad Christi fidem ejurandam frustra 
tentaretur una cum' uxore et liberis leonibus objicitur. Ilorum 
mansuetudine concitatus, imperator sereum in taurum subjectis flam- 
mis candentem eos immitti jubet, ubi divinis in laudibus consum¬ 
mate martyrio, duodecimo Kalendas Octobris ad sempiternam feli- 
citatem convolarunt. Quorum illuesa corpora religiose a fidelibus 
sepulta, postmodum ad ecclesiam, eorum nomine ereckun, honorific© 
translata sunt.” 



CHAPTER VIII. 

THE YOUNG BISHOP. 


1 . 

& BOUT twenty years after the martyrdom of Placi- 
dus, and in the reign of the same Adrian, we have 
records of another extraordinary scene in the 
Coliseum. We have given the title of “ young bishop” 
to our present notice, for our hero was but twenty years 
of age when he wore the mitre. He was a noble Roman 
youth of consular rank: he had a saintly mother, who 
was a convert of the great Apostle St. Paul, and after¬ 
wards suffered martyrdom with her son. He was called 
Eleutherius. Brought up under the care of his pious 
mother and the holy Pope Anaclete, he made rapid pro¬ 
gress in the science of the Saints. So great was his piety 
and innocen.ce of life, that, at the age of sixteen, he was 
made a deacon ; at eighteen he was ordained priest, and 
was consecrated by the hands of the Pope himself for the 
see of Aquileia (Venice) at the age of twenty. 

The preacliingand miracles of the youthful Bishop were 
reaping a fruitful harvest of souls, and his name was car¬ 
ried on the wings of fame to the ears of Adrian. The 
hypocritical policy of the Emperor was to show his piety 


THE YOUNG BISHOP . 


121 


to the gods by persecuting the most noted amongst the 
Christians. Having heard of Eleutherius on his return 
for the last time from the East, he sent one of his generals 
named Felix, with two hundred men, to seize the Bishop 
and bring him to Rome. When Felix arrived with his 
soldiers, he found Eleutherius in his church, preaching to 
a great concourse of people. He drew up his soldiers in 
guard around the church, whilst he and a few of the most 
trusty entered to seize the Saint. No sooner had Felix 
entered the church than the grace of God entered his 
heart. He was struck with the solemnity of the scene. 
The silence and devotion of the Christians assembled in 
the temple of the Most High, the heavenly light that 
shone round the Bishop, the unction and eloquence with 
which he spoke, made the pagan soldier stand riveted to 
the ground in awe and reverence. He waited till the ser¬ 
mon was over ; but instead of rushing on the defenceless 
servant of Christ to drag him to martyrdom, he was seen 
kneeling in the centre of the church, praying to the true 
God. The people were surprised, and the soldiers looked 
at each other in amazement. The first to rouse him from 
his thoughts was the Bishop, who touched him on the 
shoulder, and said to him : “ Rise, Felix ; I know what 
brought thee hither : it is the will of God that I should 
go with thee to glorify His name.” The general awoke, 
as if from a beautiful dream, and proclaimed his belief in 
the God of the Christians. 

On the journey to Rome, when they came up to a large 
river (probably the Po), they halted at a shady place on 
its banks. Eleutherius, whose heart burned with zeal 
and love, seized every opportunity of preaching the gos¬ 
pel and saving souls: Gathering the little band around 


122 


THE MARTYRS OF TEE COLISEUM. 


him, he spoke at great length of the Christian faith. His 
fervour and eloquence not only convinced them, but drew 
tears from many of the rough and benighted soldiers who 
heard him; and, when he had ceased speaking, Felix 
cried out aloud : “ I will not eat until I am baptized.” 
The holy Bishop having further instructed him, baptized 
him and some of the soldiers before they left the banks of 
the river. 

When they arrived in Borne, the Emperor ordered 
Eleutherius to be brought before him. He was led to 
one of the halls in the palace on the Palatine, where Adrian 
had his throne erected. When the martyr stood before 
him, Adrian was struck with his beauty and modesty ; a 
peculiar sweetness of countenance, blended with nobility 
and majesty, forced the pagan persecutors to look on the 
servant of Christ with a feeling almost amounting to re¬ 
verential awe. The Emperor was well aware that the 
father of Eleutherius had thrice borne the consular dignity 
under his own reign, and he saw in the victim before him 
every inducement to mercy and compassion that wealth, 
rank and talent could offer. He addressed him mildly 
at first, and seemed rather to conciliate and bribe him 
with the promise of his friendship and a position in the 
imperial palace ; but finding the noble youth immovable 
in his profession of Christianity, he gave vent to all the 
rage that pride and the devil could raise in his soul. The 
Acts of the martyr give a portion of the conversation 
that passed at this interview; it is so beautiful and touch¬ 
ing we will translate it. 

“ The Emperor said : * How is it that you, such an 
illustrious man, could give yourself to such a foolish 
superstition as to believe in a God who was crucified by 
men ] ” 


THE YOUNG BISHOP. 


123 


u Eleutherius was silent. Again the Emperor addressed 
him, and said, 1 Answer the question I ask you; why do 
you give yourself to the slavery of superstition, and serve 
a man that is dead, and who died the miserable death of 
a criminal 1 ’ 

“ Eleutherius, looking up towards heaven, and making 
the sign of the cross, said : 1 True liberty is only to be 
found in the service of the Creator of heaven and earth.’ 

“ Adrian in a milder tone said : ‘ Obey my commands, 
and I will give you a post of honour in my own palace.’ 

“ ‘ Thy words,’ said Eleutherius, * are poisoned with 
deceit and bitterness.’” ( Bollandists , 18th April.) 

Adrian was enraged at this answer, and ordered the 
copper bed to be prepared for the servant of God. This 
was an instrument of torture greatly in use at this period 
of persecution. It may be better understood by calling 
it a large gridiron. It consisted of several cross bars of 
brass or copper, supported by feet about nine inches from 
the ground; underneath was placed fire to consume the 
martyrs. It is a strange fact, however, that Almighty 
God permitted very few martyrs to meet death by this 
terrible instrument.* Eleutherius will not be its victim. 

It was ordained by the laws of Augustus, that the exe¬ 
cution of criminals and malefactors should be public, and 
that a crier should announce to the people the crimes 
which brought the offender to his miserable end. This 
law, which was wisely destined to deter others from the 
perpetration of similar crimes, was in practice in the time 

* The most illustrious martyr who won his crown in this way was 
St. Laurence, who suffered in 261, under Valerian. The gridiron on 
which he suffered, which was made of iron, and not copper, is still 
preserved in the Church of St. Lorenzo in Lucina, in Eome. 


124 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


of Adrian. Although it became arbitrary in its applica¬ 
tion under the rule of some of the tyrants who were per¬ 
mitted to disgrace the throne of Augustus, yet in the case 
of Christians it was enforced even beyond the limits of 
its requirements. Christianity was the greatest crime 
against the state ; a man might be accused of murder, 
conspiracy, or robbery, and he would escape with a light 
punishment, or be condemned to fight for his life with 
the gladiators in the Coliseum ; but it seems to have been 
only against Christians that all the horrors of pagan 
cruelty were directed. 

In consequence of this law, a crier was sent through 
the city to announce the sentence pronounced by the 
Emperor on the Bishop Eleutherius. An immense crowd 
assembled. The Acts say the whole people of Borne 
hastened to witness the execution. * The great God 
whom they knew not was inviting them to recognize His 
power, and serve Him instead of idols. When the fire was 
kindled, and was blazing furiously round the copper-bed, 
the martyr was stripped and lifted by the rough hands of 
the soldiers to his bed of torture. Never did the foot¬ 
sore pilgrim cast his wearied limbs in repose on the mossy 
bank with more ease and refreshment, than Eleutherius 
did on his bed of fire: the elements of nature are the 
creatures of God—they obey when He commands. After 
the lapse of an hour, during which he remained chained 
to the gridiron, unburnt, and without even a hair of his 
head being singed, he was liberated ; seizing the favour¬ 
able moment, he raised his voice and preached an eloquent 
sermon to the Romans whom curiosity, had gathered 

* “ Omnis populus Romanus cucurrit ad hoc spectaculum certa- 
minis.”— Bollandists, 18th Ap. 


THE YOUNG BISHOP . 


125 


around. “ Komans,” cried out the martyr, “ listen to me. 
Great and true is the Omnipotent God. There is no 
other God than He who was preached to you by the 
Apostles Peter and Paul, through whom so many cures 
and miracles were worked amongst you, through whom 
was defeated the impious Simon Magus, and through 
whom were broken to pieces the deaf and dumb idols such 
as your Emperor adores.” 

Adrian, who was listening, foamed with rage, and 
ordered another and still more terrible instrument of 
torture to be prepared for Eleutherius. This was an 
enormous frying-pan filled with oil and pitch and placed 
over an immense fire. Whilst the composition in the 
cauldron was foaming and seething with heat, the Em¬ 
peror said once more to the holy youth: “ Now, at least, 
take pity on your youth and nobility, and do not any 
longer incur the anger of the gods, or you will soon be 
like that burning oil.” 

Eleutherius laughed at the threat of the Emperor. ‘‘I 
wonder,” he said to him, “ that you, who know so much, 
have never heard of the three young men cast into the 
fiery furnace of Babylon. The flames of the fire rose to 
forty-seven cubits, in the midst of this fire they sang and 
rejoiced, for there walked in the midst of them the Son 
of the God whom I adore, whose unworthy priest I am, 
who has never abandoned me from my infancy.”* 

Having said this, he made the sign of the cross, and 
sprang towards the boiling pan. The moment he placed 

* “ Cum sis curiosus omnium, miror qunmodo non potuisti ad hsec 
pertingere, quod tres pueri Hebrsei missi in caminum flamma arden- 
tis, cujus altitudo cubitis quadraginta novem data,” &c.—Acts , 
Bollundists, 18th April. 


126 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM . 


his hand on it, the fire was extinguished, and the foam¬ 
ing mass of oil and pitch became cold and solid ; the holy- 
martyr, turning towards the Emperor, said: “Nowwhere 
are your threats ? Your fire, your gridiron and your fry¬ 
ing-pan have become like a bed of roses to me, and have 
no power to hurt me. O Adrian ! thine eyes are dark¬ 
ened with incredulity, so that thou dost not see the things 
of God; recognise thy folly, do penance for thy misdeeds, 
and weep over thy misfortune that thou hast not hitherto 
known the only great and true Euler of heaven and earth 
and all things.” 

Adrian was not converted by this extraordinary miracle; 
although it is certain he relaxed the rigour of his perse¬ 
cution against the Christians after the death of Eleuthe- 
rius. He must have been astounded at what he saw ; 
the extraordinary miracles which were worked by almost 
every Christian who was brought before him, the ineffi¬ 
cacy of the most dreadful torments he could devise, and 
the attractive sweetness of innocence and virtue which 
shines even in the external deportment of a true Chris¬ 
tian must have opened his eyes and raised a doubt in 
his mind respecting the truth of paganism. Hence it is 
reported of him by some historians, that shortly before 
his death he had resolved to erect a temple to the God 
of the Christians. 

When Eleutherius had worked the extraordinary miracle 
just mentioned, and addressed him in the sublime and 
fearless language of reproof for his folly, Adrian was not 
able to speak for confusion, and bit his lip with rage. 
There stood near one of the sycophants of the palace, 
who was the Prefect of the city ; seeing the perplexity 
and defeat of the Emperor, he said : “ Great Emperor ! 


THE YOUNG BISHOP . 


127 


the whole world, from east to west, is under your control, 
and every one trembles at your word except this insolent 
young man. Let your Majesty order him to be taken to 
prison; I will prepare an instrument in which you will 
see he will not insult you much longer. To-morrow you 
will see your triumph in my amphitheatre before the 
whole Roman people.”* j. 

These words brought relief to the baffled Emperor, and 
he immediately gave orders that Eleutherius should be 
handed over to the Prefect, Corribonus, to be treated ac¬ 
cording to his wish ; but the servant of God heard what 
was said, and, filled with a divine inspiration, cried out, 
in the hearing of the Emperor, as the soldiers were lead¬ 
ing him away: “ Yes, Corribonus, to-morrow you will 
witness my triumph, which will be the triumph of my 
Lord Jesus Christ.” 

Corribonus undertook to defeat the power of the Most 
High. He knew nothing of the great Being against 
whom he was contending. A few hours will show him 
that mercy is even greater than the attribute of power in 
the God of the Christians; for that mercy threw its 
mantle around him, through the prayers of his victim, 
from a persecutor he became a vessel of election. He 
little thought the last words of the holy Bishop were a 
prophecy, in which he himself was to take part, and that 
before the sun should set on the morrow he would be 
singing the eternal praises of the great and merciful God 
of the Christians in the bright kingdom of real triumph 
and bliss. 

The scenes that follow are extremely interesting; we 

* “ The Prefect of the city was specially in charge of the Coliseum 
and the games.” 


128 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


have come to one of the most extraordinary sights the 
old walls of the Coliseum have ever witnessed. 

2 . 

Corribonus left nothing undone to insure the suc¬ 
cess of his undertaking. As the public games were 
not going on at this time, criers were sent through the 
city to announce a special entertainment for the morrow. 
The fame of the invulnerable Christian had spread far 
and wide; the grief of the baffled Emperor, and the 
promise of Corribonus to prepare a new and terrible 
machine that was sure to destroy the Christians, roused 
the interest of the people, and on the following morning 
they flocked in thousands to the Coliseum. This was 
arranged by the providence of God, that not only the 
Romans, but the world and future ages, might recognise 
His power and glorify His name. Corribonus spent 
some time in devising an instrument of torture. The 
Emperor and the people expected something terrible—a 
machine that would cut its victims into a thousand pieces, 
and scatter them in the air, or a fire that no art could 
extinguish—a death, in fine, the most terrible ever wit¬ 
nessed in the arena of the amphitheatre. But the issue 
of his labours was an instrument that expressed indeed 
brutality and ignorance, but no novelty or art. We are 
tempted to smile when we read of the machine he invented 
to baffle the power of the Most High. It was nothing 
more than an immense boiler with a lid; in it was to 
be placed oil, pitch, resin, and some nauseous poisonous 
ingredients ; and then, when a terrible fire had heated 
the mixture to scalding temperature, the martyr was to 


THE YOUNG BISHOP. 


129 


be thrown in, and thus consumed, as he thought, in a 
moment. 

The sun is already high in the heavens, and the deaf¬ 
ening shouts from the Coliseum tell us the benches are 
filled with the impatient mob. The immense cauldron 
is placed in the middle of the arena, and the burning 
faggots are blazing around it; the air is impregnated 
with the fumes of the heterogeneous mass, and the thick 
dark smoke of the fetid composition rises slowly to a 
cloudless sky. Two or three men, half-naked, and of 
dark, fiendish looks, are supplying the fire with faggots, 
and at intervals stirring up the seething and crackling 
contents of the boiler. The picture was like the vision 
often given to the saints of the horrors of hell. Around, 
the demons were calling aloud for the death of the Chris¬ 
tians ; there was fire, torment, and hatred of God ; what 
more is there in hell save its eternal curse ! 

The Emperor and Prefect arrived, and some games of 
gladiators and bestiaries were witnessed with the usual 
excitement and delight. But the great attraction of that 
day’s amusement was the smoking cauldron in the arena. 
After each contest between the gladiators and the beasts, 
loud shrill voices would ring from the upper benches 
calling for the Christian. The Emperor and Prefect 
cheerfully yielded to the importunities of the people ; and 
“at the third hour,” say the Acts, Eleutherius was 
brought into the arena. He looked young, beautiful, 
and cheerful, as he moved, with heavy chains on his 
hands and feet, towards the tribunal of the Emperor and 
Prefect. When he was brought under the throne of the 
Emperor, Corribonus commanded silence with his hand, 
and spoke thus aloud :— 

I 


130 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


“ All nations obey the power of our great Emperor— 
you alone, young man, despise his wishes; wherefore 
either obey his orders and worship the gods and god¬ 
desses whom he adores, or by Jupiter you will be cast 
into the boiling cauldron.” 

Those latter words he pronounced with great emphasis, 
and pointed towards the dreadful cauldron. He had cal¬ 
culated on a certain victory over the martyr, and 
thought he had only to use the threats with which he 
was accustomed to terrify his cowardly slaves. Eleu- 
therius, without showing any signs of fear or trouble, 
quietly answered the Prefect in this manner :—“ Corri- 
bonus, listen to me ; you have your king who made you 
Prefect; I have my King who made me Bishop. Now, 
one of these two must conquer, and he who is the con¬ 
queror should be adored by you and me. If your caul¬ 
dron overcome my faith, then I must serve your king ; 
but if your cauldron be overcome by my King, you must 
adore the Lord Jesus Christ.” 

Then the lictors seized him and tore off his garments. 
Whilst they were leading him towards the boiler, he 
prayed thus aloud: “ O Lord Jesus Christ, Thou art the 
joy and light of all souls who believe in Thee! Thou 
knowest that all sufferings are pleasing to me on account 
of Thy name ; but to show that the very elements resist 
those who oppose Thee, do not permit me, Thy servant, 
to be consumed in this cauldron.” 

He was flung into the burning mass, and the great lid 
was drawn over. 

All was as silent as death in the amphitheatre. The 
people bent forward in breathless suspense; they ex¬ 
pected something extraordinary. Another minute passed 


THE YOUNG BISHOP . 


131 


in silence—the fire still raged and the cauldron was 
not dashed to pieces; the martyr must be dead. The 
Emperor smiled, and Corribonus rubbed his hands in 
complacent glee at his imagined triumph. After a few 
minutes of suspense, the Emperor ordered the lid to be 
removed to see if anything remained of the martyr. But 
all honour and glory to the eternal God ! He laughs at 
His enemies, and sets their machinations at naught. 
Eleutherius was unhurt—not a hair was touched—not a 
fibre in his body was contracted—not a movement in his 
features showed a sensation of pain; but calm, beautiful 
and collected, he seemed rather to be going through 
his daily devotions in his own little episcopal chapel, 
than floating in a terrible cauldron of burning oil before 
tens of thousands of the Eoman populace. When he 
stood erect in the arena, a murmur of surprise ran through 
the amphitheatre. Adrian was fixed to the ground in 
wonder ; he looked at Corribonus with anger flashing in 
his eyes. But at that moment the grace of God entered 
the heart of Corribonus, and rushing towards the 
Emperor, he addressed him with vehemence: “ 0 great 
Emperor! let us believe in the God who protects His 
servants in this manner. This youth is indeed a priest of 
the true God. If one of our priests of Jupiter, of Juno, 
or Hercules were cast into this cauldron, would their 
gods save them thus ? ” 

The words of the Prefect fell like a thunderclap on the 
ears of Adrian. Unconverted in his superstition, and 
hardened in his impiety, the sudden change which grace 
had wrought in the heart of Corribonus roused his indig¬ 
nation to the highest pitch. 

“ What! ” he cried out, after a moment’s pause; “ is 


132 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


it you, Corribonus, that dare speak thus 1 Has the 
mother of this wretch bribed you to betray me 1 I have 
made you Prefect; I have given you gold and silver \ 
and now you turn against me to take part with this hated 
Christian ! Seize him, lictors, and let the caitiff’s blood 
mingle with the burning oil of the cauldron.” 

“ Hear me for a moment, great Emperor ! ” cried out 
Corribonus. “ The honours and favours you have con¬ 
ferred on me have been short-lived and temporal. Whilst 
I was in error I could not see the truth which now shines 
resplendent before me. If you wish to scoff at the great 
God of the Christians, and remain a victim of the follies 
of your impiety, look you to it. I, from this moment, 
believe Christ to be the true God. I deny your idols to 
be gods, and I believe in Him, alone great and powerful, 
whom Eleutherius preaches.” 

Adrian stamped the ground with passion, and made a 
sign to the lictors to lead him at once to the arena to be 
executed. 

When the lictors had taken him to the arena, he flung 
himself on his knees before Eleutherius, and thus 
addressed him : “ Man of God ! pray for me, I beseech 
thee, to that God whom to-day I have confessed to be 
alone great; give me that saving sign thou didst give 
Felix the general, that I may brave the torments of the 
Emperor.” 

Eleutherius shed tears of joy. He thanked God in 
his heart for the conversion of Corribonus, and prayed 
to the Almighty to strengthen him to sustain the tor¬ 
ments he was about to suffer. The Prefect was cast into 
the very instrument that he had prepared to destroy Eleu¬ 
therius ; the lid was closed over him, and he was left in 


THE YOUNG BISHOP. 


133 


the terrible instrument for several minutes. When the 
cauldron was uncovered, he was still alive, unhurt, and 
without pain ; he was singing the praises of the true God, 
whose power and divinity he no longer doubted; and, 
although ten minutes had not passed since he was a pagan, 
yet his faith was as immovable as a mountain. The 
Emperor, seeing that he too escaped the destructive power 
of the burning cauldron, ordered the gladiators to dispatch 
him in the sight of all the people.* The noble Prefect 
fell in the arena of the Coliseum under the eyes and bless¬ 
ing of Eleutlierius. His prompt and generous response 
to the calls of grace merited for him the peerless crown 
of martyrdom. The great sacrifice was momentary, yet 
worth a thousand years of penance. Wealth, friends, 
family were abandoned without a murmur or a farewell, 
and torments and death cheerfully accepted. What faith 
—what confidence—what love is expressed in the neo¬ 
phyte’s declaration of Christianity ! Happy the exchange 
he made ! Would that we, born in the faith and grown 
old in it, could come near him in the brilliant mansions 
of everlasting joy! 

3 . 

When we contemplate the wonderful works of God, 
how must not our mind expand and our heart warm and 
be elevated ! Some have said that our reason alone can 
comprehend everything within the confines of the vast 
creation, and account for all that is not beyond the sky; 
but foolish and absurd the man that does not recognise 
the ah -resent influence of the great God. There are 

* “ Videos*autem imperator quod etiam Corribon vinceret, jussifc 
eum inconspectu omnium decollari.”— Acts. 


134 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


mysteries and wonders in nature and grace at every 
moment passing around us that no human intellect can 
perceive or explain. Strange it is that men who are 
ready to acknowledge the power and wonders of God in 
the material creation, deny Him the glory He demands 
for similar works in the spiritual order. There are many 
in every position of life, amongst Christians and unbe¬ 
lievers, amongst the educated, the rich and the poor, who 
are unconsciously prejudiced against God in the mani¬ 
festation of His power through men. He may cause 
wonders in the revolving orbits of the heavens; the brute 
animals, and the very stones of inanimate nature, may 
become the instruments of the most marvellous effects; 
but the moment the ordinary laws of nature are sus¬ 
pended in favour of our fellow-creatures—in favour of 
the rational being, the highest of the works of God— 
then there is doubt, misgiving, some unaccountable re¬ 
luctance to believe. The most manifest interpositions 
of the divine power are explained away by chance, by 
hallucination, by skill; and where ocular testimony does 
not prove, the fact is immediately denied. This is the 
case with all the strange things that are recorded in the 
history of the past. When we read of a miracle in the 
lives of the saints we are prepared immediately to doubt; 
perhaps the records that surprise us are but inventions 
to amuse us. Thus some of the most consoling and beau¬ 
tiful traits of the paternal providence of God for His 
suffering creatures are cast to the winds as incredible as 
the myths of paganism. Is there not some taint of the 
corrupt spirit of the world and the devil in the proud 
feeling of contempt and incredulity with which we treat 
the works of God ? 


THE YOUNG BISHOP. 


135 


Not everything that is said in history is true, nor yet 
Is everything false. But there are sacred and touching 
records of the trials and triumphs of the martyrs pre¬ 
served in the archives of the Church, and transmitted to 
us with her seal and authority j they record wonders in¬ 
deed, but neither impossible nor strange if we consider 
the exigencies of the terrible days of persecution. It 
would be rash, unfilial, and disre spectful for the children 
of the Church to fling away the Acts of her martyrs as 
idle stories simply because they are strange. Why set 
limits to the power or the goodness of God ? 

We return, then, with love and respect to the wonder¬ 
ful Acts of St. Eleutherius. We have still more mar¬ 
vellous and thrilling miracles to record. The Coliseum 
is to be again the theatre and the witness of startling 
events in the extraordinary career of this holy martyr. 
We can scarcely say whe her we are more struck with the 
persistent cruelty of the blinded Emperor or the untiring 
patience of God in working wonder after wonder through 
the youthful and saintly Bishop. 

After the death of Corribonus, Eleutherius was sent to 
prison. Adrian tore his purple robe in anger, and retired 
to his imperial saloons to give vent to this impotent rage. 
He summoned his courtiers, and offered a great reward 
to any of them who would suggest how he could get rid 
of the troublesome Christian. The plans suggested were 
numerous and cruel, but Adrian selected one which would 
cause less excitement among the people and which seemed 
to render death inevitable. It was to leave him shut up 
in a loathsome prison, deprived of food and light, until 
the exhausted frame could no longer perform the vital 
functions. He commanded the prison doors to be locked, 


136 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


and the keys to be brought to his own palace, making 
sure that no bribery or treason would rob him of his 
victim. But stone walls and prison bars cannot keep out 
the Spirit of God. 

His prison was a dark, subterranean cell below the 
level of the city. The only light or air that could come 
into it was through a small hole about the size of a brick 
in one of the angles of the roof. The accumulation of 
dirt, the fetid air, and the horrid darkness make the 
imagination recoil from the contemplation of the terrible 
lot of being condemned to pass days and nights and weeks 
in prisons such as served for the cruelty and justice of 
pagan Rome. History teems with harrowing scenes of 
madness, despair and death which terminated the career 
of the victims of these dreary dungeons. Some ate the 
flesh of their own arms in hunger, others dashed out 
their brains in madness against the rocky walls of the 
prison, or strangled themselves in despair, whilst their 
unburied and corrupting bodies were left to intensify the 
horrors of the dungeon for the next victim of imperial 
displeasure. But these gloomy cells were homes of peace 
and light to the servants of God. Solitude, darkness 
and confinement were sources of supernatural joy that 
ravished their souls to pure delights, which are the fore¬ 
taste of the bliss of heaven. 

When the heavy iron doors of the prison were closed 
on Eleutherius, his soul w’as filled with celestial joy. The 
Spirit of God not only went down with him into the pit, 
but sent him food every day. Each morning of his con¬ 
finement, a beautiful little dove would come through the 
narrow crevice that served for light and air, and drop 


THE YOUNG BISHOP. 


137 


some delicate refreshment at the feet of the martyr.* 
When fifteen days had passed—days that were happy and 
cheerful to the servant of Christ—the Emperor sent 
down the keys of the prison to see if death had rid him 
of Eleutherius. When it was reported to Adrian that he 
was still alive, and seemed happy and contented with his 
vile prison, the Emperor was once more seized with rage 
and passion. He had Eleutherius brought before him. 
He expected to find the holy youth worn away to a 
skeleton, and humbled and terrified like the wretched 
pagan victims who had been flung into those prisons but 
for a few hours. What must have been his surprise to 
find Eleutherius more comely and beautiful than ever— 
“ in flore primrn juventutis velut angelus fulgens ” t—still 
immovable in his resolve to worship Christ alone, fear¬ 
lessly confronting the tyrant, and reproving him for his 
impiety. 

Adrian now ordered the martyr to be tied to a wild 
horse, that he might be dragged over the massive pave¬ 
ments of the Eoman roads, and thus be bruised and 
broken to pieces. The sentence was executed; but the 
moment the horse was let free, an angel loosened the 
bonds of Eleutherius and, lifting him up, placed him on 
the back of the horse. :£ Away the animal flew across the 
Campagna, bearing its precious burden on its back, and 
never stopping until it had reached the summit of one of 
the highest and bleakest mountains of the Sabine range 

* “ Cumque esset B. Eleutherius in custodia multis diebus cibum 
non accipiens, columba ei cibum portabat ad satietatem, &c.— Acts, 
par. 13. 

+ In the flower of early youth shining like an angel. 

X “ Eadem autum hora angelus Domini suscipiens B. Eleutherium 
solvit eum et fecit eum sedere super equum.”— Acts, par. 13. 


138 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


of the Apennines. The liberty of the mountain side, the 
beautiful fresh breeze that bore around him the odours of 
a thousand flowers, and the exquisite view of the green 
valleys, formed a great contrast with the horrors of the 
prison he had just left. 

Whilst he was pouring forth the acknowledgments of 
his grateful heart to the true God, the wild animals 
gathered round him, as if to express their welcome to the 
holy man who was sent to live amongst them. Eleuthe- 
rius spent some weeks in happy solitude on the moun¬ 
tain,. feeding on roots and fruits, and singing the praises 
of God. He longed to come to the everlasting gar¬ 
dens of heaven, which he saw faintly reflected in the 
beautiful world around him; but Almighty God has 
still some greater triumphs and trials for his faithful 
servant. 

One day some hunters from Rome were passing over 
the Sabine hills in search of game. They saw at some 
distance a man kneeling in the midst of wild animals ; 
they hurried back to the city to tell of the strange sight; 
and from the description they gave, the people knew it 
was the immortal Eleutherius, who had escaped once 
more from the dreadful fate destined for him by the cruel 
Emperor. If a thunderbolt had split the earth in two, 
and placed Adrian on the brink of the yawning gulf, he 
could not have been more startled than when he heard 
that his victim was still alive. He ordered a commander 
of the army and a thousand men to march at once to the 
mountains to seize Eleutherius. 

When the soldiers arrived at the spot pointed out by the 
hunters, they found the Saint surrounded by an immense 
troop of wild animals, which seemed to form a body- 


THE YOUNG BISHOP . 


139 


guard around him, and defying the soldiers to come near. 
The Roman soldiers were brave, and fought desperately 
in battle against their fellow-men, but there was some¬ 
thing supernatural in the scene before them that unnerved 
them and made them cowards. After much exhortation 
and intimidation from their general, some of them ad¬ 
vanced forward to seize the Saint, but they would have 
been instantly torn to pieces by the wolves had not Eleu- 
therius ordered them in a loud voice to desist. The ani¬ 
mals obeyed him instantly, and came crouching at his feet 
as if afraid of chastisement. He then ordered them to 
retire to their home in the mountains, and thanked them 
in the name of their common God for the services they 
had rendered him. The troop of wild beasts moved away, 
and left Eleutherius alone with the soldiers. * These he 
gathered around him, and addressed in beautiful and 
powerful language. He called on them to recognise the 
power of the true God, whom the very beasts of the desert 
obeyed. He showed them their folly in adoring a piece 
of carved marble or painted wood, and how He who 
reigns above can alone give eternal life and happiness. 
Before the sun set on that auspicious day, six hundred 
and eight sturdy warriors from the Roman garrison were 
regenerated in the waters of baptism. Amongst the con¬ 
verted there were some 'captains of noble families and 
favourites of the Emperor. They offered to let Eleuthe¬ 
rius remain free, and to return to Rome without him, but 
the holy Bishop knew they would only bring theindigna- 

* “ Adjuro vos per nomen Christi Domini ut nullum ex his con- 
tingatis sed unaquaeque vestrum ascendat ad locum suum ; adcujus 
vocem omnes ferae cum Omni mausuetudme ahscesserunt.” —Par. 
14, &c. 


140 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


tion of Adrian on themselves, and that thus their families 
would have to suffer a persecution their young faith might 
not be able to endure ; moreover he was longing to re¬ 
ceive the crown of martyrdom, which he knew by inspira. 
tion was to come in the end; he therefore cheerfully 
accompanied them, to appear once more before the hard¬ 
hearted and cruel Emperor. 

The excitement in the city when Eleutherius was 
brought back again was beyond description. Not one ot 
the extraordinary scenes we have just described was pri¬ 
vate ; they took place before thousands of the populace ; 
they were discussed and talked over in every triclinium ; 
and the loungers of the Forum were in constant conver¬ 
sation about the wonderful Christian. The cause of the 
Emperor became their own. There were many amongst 
the people more wicked and cruel than Adrian, and who 
vied with him in their hatred of Christianity. It was not 
sympathy, but curiosity and indignation, that made them 
flock round the martyr of Jesus Christ. Adrian knew 
well what were the feelings of the mob, and wished to 
pander to them, and hence felt himself obliged to con¬ 
demn Eleutherius once more to a public execution ; yet 
he felt himself subdued ; his mind was changed towards 
the Christians; and although the holy and youthful 
Bishop of Aquileia suffered under him, he was his last 
victim. The order is issued ; the people are to assem¬ 
ble again in the Coliseum to witness the execution of 
Eleutherius. The events that passed in the amphitheatre 
on this occasion were strange and terrible, and form a 
grand tragic finale to the wonder of this marvellous his¬ 
tory. 


THE YOUNG BISHOP . 


141 


4. 

The morning of the 18th of April, A.D. 138, must ever 
be memorable in the annals of the great city, not only for 
the passion of one of the greatest of the martyrs, but for 
the death of thousands of people \vho came to an untimely 
end on this day within the walls of the Coliseum. The 
demons were let loose for an hour in the amphitheatre, 
and they left the indelible stain of their presence in the 
records of blasphemy, cruelty and bloodshed. Doubtless 
the evil spirits were more annoyed than the pagan Em¬ 
peror at the constancy of Eleutherius. His miracles and 
prayers were daily swelling the ranks of Christianity, 
and thousands were beginning to fear the name of the 
true God. The tortures and public executions which 
were intended as intimidations to the people were the 
fruitful source of conversions. They gave them ocular 
evidence of the divinity of Christianity—the power and 
sublimity of its faith, which raised men above passion 
and fear and enabled them to smile with the independ¬ 
ence of martyrdom on the most terrible of all the catas¬ 
trophes know to the pagan—the separation of the soul 
from the body. The blood of the martyrs fructified the 
soil of the Church, and for one that fell, thousands were 
gained. 

On the day that Eleutherius fell under the sword of 
the executioner in the arena of the Coliseum, different 
emotions animated the crowd which witnessed the terrible 
scene. Some were excited by curiosity at the extra¬ 
ordinary miracles which were worked in behalf of the 
holy youth, whilst others raged like the furies of hell for 


142 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


the blood of the Christians. There were Christians, too, 
amongst them, glad and proud of their champion, who 
conferred so much honour on the Church and gave so 
much glory to God. Doubtless there were mixed up in 
the motley crowd some of the poor soldiers whom 
Eleutherius had baptized a few days before at the foot of 
the Sabine hills. How the tears of grateful sympathy 
must have trickled down the sun-burnt cheek of the 
hardy warrior as he saw the angelic youth roughly treated 
by the menials of the Emperor. Christianity softens the 
heart the moment it enters; it changes the brutal ten¬ 
dencies of the most ferocious nature into mildness, sim¬ 
plicity and love: the pagan who yesterday could bend 
with delight over scenes of bloodshed and cruelty, to-day 
turns away in horror and disgust. 

The sun is now high in the heavens, and pouring its 
meridian rays in burning splendour over the city. The 
people are hurrying in crowds from every side to their 
favourite amphitheatre. Most of them were present a 
few days before when Eleutherius was cast into the 
cauldron of Corribonus, and hoped to see some similar 
scenes of excitement and wonder on the present occasion. 
They will not be disappointed. 

The Emperor arrives with all his court. He looks sad 
and anxious. Old age and much travelling have told on 
his robust frame; he enters feebly and heavily to his 
crimson couch under the royal dais. He justly fears a 
repetition of his former defeats in contending with the 
angel of God, whom his own cruel heart and the voice of 
the mob bring once more into the arena. 

Elevated by pride to absurd ideas of power, and too 
weak-minded to brook disappointment, he would have 
given half the Empire to get rid of Eleutherius. 


THE YOUNG BISHOP. 


143 


Hark! the trumpets have sounded—the games are 
commenced. A few gladiators pass in procession round 
the arena and salute the Emperor with the usual words 
—“ Hail, Caesar ! Those who are going to die salute 
thee.”* Some lions and tigers are exhibited, and allowed 
to frisk about for a few moments. The poor captive 
brutes appreciated the light and pure air of heaven when 
set free from the dark and fetid keeps of the Coliseum. 
Then the trumpet was sounded again, and the gladiators 
fought—some blood was shed—a captive from Thrace has 
fallen; 

“And through his side the last drops, ebbing slow 
From the red gash, fall heavy, one by one, 

Like the first of a thunder-shower; and now 
The arena swims around him—he is gone 

Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hailed the wretch who won.” 

Loud and shrill was the call of the excited spectators 
for the execution of Eleutherius. The order was given, 
and behold the holy youth is brought in in chains ! His 
lovely, angelic features shone more beautifully than ever. 
He looked cheerfully round the crowded benches. Ter¬ 
rific yells were succeeded by breathless silence as he 
moved with a firm step towards the centre. A crier went 
before him, announcing, in a loud voice, “ This is Eleu¬ 
therius, the Christian.” A messenger is sent from the 
Emperor to know whether he will sacrifice to the god 
Jupiter; but a severe, cutting answer about the demons 
that represented Jupiter proved the mai tyr was as fear¬ 
less and invincible as ever. Adrian ordered some wild 
beasts to be let out on him to devour him. 

One of the subterranean passages was opened, and a 

* “ Ave Caesar morituri te salutant.” 


141 THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 

hyena was sent into the arena. The animal seemeil 
frightened and ran quickly from side to 'side; coming 
gently towards the spot where Eleutherius was kneeling, it 
lay down, seeming to be afraid to approach the servant of 
God. Then the keeper, who knew the indignation and dis¬ 
appointment of the Emperor, let loose a hungry lion, whose 
terrific roars terrified the people. The king of the forest 
rushed towards Eleutherius, not to tear his tender flesh 
with his horrid claws, but to reverence him and caress him. 
The noble animal crouched before the martyr, and wept 
like a human being. “ When the lion was set loose,” say 
the Acts, “ he ran to the blessed Eleutherius and wept 
like a father who had not seen his son after a long 
separation, before the whole people, and licked his hands 
and his feet.* 

A thrilling scene followed. Some people cried out that 
he was a magician, but the lightning of heaven struck 
them, and they were killed in their seats. Others called 
for his liberty; whilst more, in the enthusiasm of the 
moment, cried out: “ Great is the God of the Christians ! ” 
The evil spirit had entered into the worst of the pagans, and, 
in maddened frenzy, they fell on those who cried out that 
the God of the Christians was great, and murdered them. 
They were attacked in turn by the friends of their victims, 
and a horrid scene of bloodshed ensued. The whole am¬ 
phitheatre was in commotion, and nothing was heard but 
the shouts of the infuriated populace, who were tearing 
each other to pieces, mingled with the screams of terrified 
women and the groans Of the dying. The Emperor had 

* “ Dimissus autcm leo cucurrit ad B. Eleutherium et, tanquam 
pater filiuin post multum tempus videns, ita coram omnibus flebat 
in conspectu ejus, et manus ejus et pedes ejus lingebat.”—No. 16. 


THE YOUNG BISHOP. 


145 


the trumpet-blast sounded shrill and clear to command 
attention, but to no effect; the carnage went on, and 
blood was already flowing from tier to tier. The Em¬ 
peror at length ordered the soldiers to clear the upper 
benches; with much difficulty, and even loss of men, they 
succeeded in quelling the fatal quarrel. 

Eleutherius was all this time on his knees in the arena. 
Many of the people had leaped over the safeguards of 
the amphitheatre, and had gathered round him for pro¬ 
tection. The wild animals dare not touch them. But 
the holy martyr prayed to the great God to remove him 
from such revolting and dreadful scenes. His prayer was 
heard. Almighty God. revealed to him by an interior 
voice that He would allow him to be martyred by the 
sword. In a rapture of joy he told some of the persons 
who had gathered round him, that if the Emperor would 
command^ him to be put to death by the sword, he would 
succeed. The message was taken immediately to Adrian, 
who, in a paroxysm of rage, cried out: “ Let him die then 
by the sword ; he is the cause of all this tumult! ” The 
trumpets were once more sounded, and, in the midst of 
confusion and terror, all became silent as the grave ; the 
spectators bent forward with breathless anxiety to see if 
the lictor would succeed. He wields the mighty axe— 
it falls—Eleutherius is no more! His blood flows on the 
arena—the earth shook, and thunder was heard in a cloud¬ 
less sky. A loud voice rang through the vault of heaven, 
calling Eleutherius to eternal bliss. 

Yet he was not the last victim of that terrible day. 
There was another mother of the Machabees in the crowd 
of spectators—it was the mother of Eleutherius. She 
had watched with the joy of a true Christian mother all 
J 


146 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


the scenes that her brave son had passed through; and 
when she saw him at length passing triumphantly to his 
crown, her heart was bursting within her with the natural 
feelings of maternal sympathy and religious joy; she 
almost forgot she was in the Coliseum, and in the midst 
of a pagan crowd, and rushing frantically to the arena, 
she threw herself on the bleeding corpse of her son. A 
murmur of surprise and pity roused the attention of the 
Emperor, who had not yet left the Coliseum. He sent to 
know who she was, and why she came to embrace the 
body of the martyr. When it was reported that she was 
his mother, and a Christian, who wished to die with her 
son, the cruel and enraged Emperor ordered her to be 
executed. The same axe that* brought the crown of 
martyrdom to the son drank the blood of the mother. 
She was executed while embracing the dead body of 
Eleutherius, and their virtuous souls were united in the 
blissful world where separation shall be no moire. 

During the night their bodies were stolen by some 
Christians, and buried in a private vineyard outside the 
Porta Salara; they were kept there for some days, and 
then taken to the city of Rieti, where a magnificent 
church was erected in their honour in the reign of Con¬ 
stantine. Innumerable miracles were performed by these 
sacred relics. The holy Bishop Eleutherius was more for¬ 
midable to the devils after death than before; and, during 
the lapse of seventeen centuries, the poor people who had 
first the honour of his remains amongst them, never lost 
their devotion nor called on him in vain. The relics of 
the holy Bishop were subsequently removed to Rome, to 
be distributed amongst several churches that were con¬ 
stantly applying for relics. The principal part of the 


THE YOUNG BISHOP. 147 

body of St. Anthsia, bis mother, is preserved in the beau¬ 
tiful little church of St. Andrew on the Quirinal. 

The marvellous history of this Saint was written by 
two brothers, who were eye-witnesses to most of its ex¬ 
traordinary facts. They conclude their report in these 
words :—“ These things we, the brothers Eulogius and 
Theodulus, who have been ordained for that purpose, 
have written ; and being ever assisted by his holy admo¬ 
nitions, we have persevered with him, and we have made 
mention of thnse things which our eyes have seen or our 
ears have heard,” &c.* 

These Acts, which we have quoted from the Bollandists 
are preserved in the archives of their church at Rieti. 
They were also written in Greek by another eye-witness, 
with slight alterations; and by Metaphrastes, whose version 
is given by Surius under the 18th of April. Baronius, in 
his Martyrology, mentions the principal facts of his his¬ 
tory, and in his notes refers to numerous authors who are 
our best authorities for the records of the early Church. 

We cannot conclude without saying a word about the 
Emperor Adrian. He left the Coliseum on that terrible 
morning silent and unwell. Even his hardened soul was 
softened, but-not converted; he had learned a lesson 
which deterred him from interfering again with the Chris¬ 
tians. But, like all the persecutors, he came at length to 
his hour of retribution. It was while in the amphitheatre 
seeking the destruction of the servants of Christ, that his 
frame contracted a loathsome disease, from which he 
never recovered; and so miserable and wretched did he 

* “ Hsec nos duo fratres, Eulogius et Theodulus, scripsimus qui ab 
eo ordinati sunns et hortationibus ejus adjuti semper cum ipso per¬ 
se veravimus : et ea quae viderunt oculi nostri et audieruut aures 
"ostrae nota fecimus,” &c. 


148 THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM . 

become, that in the end he died of voluntary starvation. 
He lingered for a year in the most frightful pain; he gave 
himself to greater superstition than ever, in the blind 
hope that his idols could restore him. The harpies of 
imposture gathered round him, and extorted immense 
sums of money under pretence of skill or magic ; but his' 
malady increased, and his impious spirit was seized with 
the horrors of despair and remorse. The hand that wrote 
the terrible judgment in the hall of Balthassar had already 
weighed the persecutor of the Church, and the terrible 
sentence was written before him, so dreadful in its very 
anticipation that he thought to avoid it by death. He 
tried to induce some one to kill him, but was unsucessful 
in the attempt. At length, filled with remorse and des¬ 
pair, he refused to take any nourishment, and died on the 
6th of the Ides of July, in the year of our Lord 140 (ac¬ 
cording to Baronius). His death took place at Baja, and 
his body was afterwards removed by Antoninus Pius to the 
immense mausoleum which he raised on the banks of the 
Tiber. That mausoleum still stands in massive splendour 
like an imperishable ruin, reminding the Christian pilgrim 
to the Eternal City of the triumph of many martyrs, and 
the blindness of the persecutors of the Church. One can¬ 
not but contrast the happy lot of Placidus, and Eleuthe- 
rius, and the noble souls who were crowned with these 
heroes, with the awful ruin and eternal death of their 
persecutors. May those souls which are now crowned 
and happy pray for us, to enable us to resist the tyrant 
passions which persecute us, so that, if we have not the 
happiness of shedding our blood for Christ, we may at 
least arrive at the martyrdom of self-love, and join them 
one day in the praises of the same God whom we serve 
and love ? 



CHAPTER IX. 


THE SARDINIAN YOUTH. 


DRIAN had been declared a god. Notwithstand¬ 
ing the passions that made him contemptible, 
and the cruelty that made him hated, he was 
deified. The soldiers, the people, and the provinces, that 
were greatly benefited by his visits and his generosity, 
called for his elevation to divine honours. The Senate, 
which was still the most intelligent body in the Empire, 
writhed under his tyranny. On his death-bed he had 
condemned four of them to be executed. Yet the weak, 
degraded Senate consented, and a temple was raised and 
sacrifices offered in his honour. The absurdity of these 
acts would raise a smile, were it not that they involved a 
terrible blasphemy against the true God, and make us 
blush for the stupendous degradation of the human race. 
It became fashionable in those days to make gods of the 
Emperors. Whilst the burning carcass was being con¬ 
sumed on the funeral pile, the surviving family would pay 
some vile wretch to swear he saw the divine spirit as¬ 
cending to the skies. “ Wherefore,” cries out the great 
St. Justin in his Apology for the Christians, “ do you 
condescend to consecrate to immortality the Emperors 


150 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


■vvho die amongst yon, producing some one who assever¬ 
ates that he saw the burning Caesar ascend to heaven from 
the funeral pile ?”* 

A few years after the death of Adrian, one of the con¬ 
cubines of Antoninus was declared a goddess ; and An¬ 
toninus himself, after his death, was worshipped under 
the guise of a bronze statue erected in a magnificent 
Temple in the Forum. One of the most imposing ruins 
of the old Forum is the splendid marble portico of this 
temple, still bearing on its ruined entablature the mark 
of the gilt letters, “Divo Antinino et Divse Faustinae.”’ 
What wonder is it that the Emperor Commodus, a few 
years later, should be impatient for the honours that 
awaited him after death, and declared himself a god 
whilst still living, and had sacrifice offered to him as the 
son of Jupiter in the full assembly of the Senate ? Like 
the storm-cloud that clings to the mountain, the terrible 
sin of idolatry hung for centuries over pagan Rome, and 
seemed to wrap the. ill-fated city in a dark mantle of 
impenetrable gloom: she was the lady clothed in scarlet, 
seated on the seven hills, the Babylon of the Apoca¬ 
lypse, t 

Pagan historians, and even some Christians, tell us 
that one of the best acts of Adrian was the election of 
Antoninus to succeed him in the Empire. His virtues, 
for a pagan, were remarkable, and his blind fanaticism in 
the worship of the gods procured for him the title of 

* “ Porro cur morientes apud vos imperatores semper immortali- 
tati consecrare dignamini, producentes quempiam qui jurejurando 
confirmet vidisse se e rogo ascendere in ccelum ardentem Csesarem ?” 

•Y “ C’est une tradition constante de tous les siecles que le Baby lone 
de Saint Jean c’est l’ancienne Koine.” Eossuet, Pref. sur VApocal., vii. 


THE SARDINIAN YOUTH. 


151 


Pius. His adopted son, Marcus Aurelius, who afterwards 
succeeded him in the command of the Empire, gives him 
the highest character it is possible to express in words.* 

But notwithstanding the fulsome praise that is lavished 
on Antoninus, he stands before us as a persecutor of the 
Church of God. There are stains of cruelty and injustice 
on his character which cannot be effaced by his natural 
virtues. When we read of the sufferings of the Chris¬ 
tians, tortured with inhuman cruelty, and their blood 
shed in the Coliseum, and at the Petra Scelerata, we 
cannot reconcile the horrors of a violent persecution with 
the character of meekness and justice given him by his 
pagan successor. There have been found records on the 
marble slabs of the Catacombs, that form a sad contrast 
with the encomiums bestowed upon him. Read the fol¬ 
lowing touching inscription rudely carved on the tomb 
of a martyred child:—“ Alexander is not dead, but lives 
beyond the stars ! His body lies in this tomb. He 
suffered under Antoninus Emperor, who changed from 
indulgence to hatred; for while he was kneeling (Alex¬ 
ander) about to offer the sacrifice (of prayer) to the true 
God, he was led to death. Oh, unhappy times ! in which, 
even at our prayers and at mass, we are not safe. What 
more miserable than life, but what more miserable still 
that in death we cannot be buried by our parents and 
friends. But Alexander now shines in heaven. He lived 
a short time, who lived four years and ten months. ”t 

* These reflections of Marcus Aurelius are classed amongst the 
philosophical works of the past. They are beautifully written, and 
have a great deal of merit. They may be found in nearly all the 
great libraries. 

t“ Alexander mortus non est sed vivit super asstra et 

CORPUS IN HOC TUMULO QUIESCIT VITAM EXPLEV1T. CUM ANTONINO 


152 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


If Antoninus relaxed the rigour of persecution in the 
latter years of his reign, it was due to the eloquence of 
St. Justin. With apostolic courage and zeal, he reproved 
the Emperor, the Senate, and the people for their in¬ 
justice in shedding the blood of unoffending Christians. 
He contrasted the innocence, virtue and sanctity of the 
Christian life with the excesses of paganism, the absur¬ 
dity and folly of idolatry, and the plurality of gods; he 
proclaimed the evidences of the divinity of the Christian 
faith brighter than the sun that shone over them, and 
warned them of the terrible account they would have to 
render, whether they wished it or not, to the one great 
and necessarily supreme Being whom they pretended to 
ignore, or openly despised in the persecution of His 
servants. Antoninus was not uninfluenced by noble sen¬ 
timents, and the eloquence and skilful reasoning of Justin 
produced a favourable effect upon his mind; the sword 
of persecution was put back in its scabbard, to await the 
next tyrant that should wield the sceptre of the Caesars. 

Many celebrated Christians fell victims to the perse¬ 
cution of Antoninus. The Acts of St. Felicitas tell a 
touching tale of cruelty which shows the virulence of 
the persecution. Two other scenes are accurately 

IMP. QUI MULTUM BENEFITII ANTEVENIRE PREVIDERET PRO GRATTA 
ODIUM REDDIT GENUA ENIM FLETENS VERO DEO SACRIFJCIA TURUS 
AD SUPPLICIA DUCITUR O TEMPORA INFAUSTA QUIBUS INTER SACRA 
ET VOTA NE IN CAVERNIS QUIDEM SALVARI POSSIMUS QUID MISERIUS 
VITA SED QUID MISERIUS IN MORTE CUM AB AM1CIS ET PARENTIBUS 
SEPILIRI NEQUE ANT. TANDEM IN C<ELO CORUSCAT PARUM VIXIT QUI 
VixiT IV. x. temp.” — Aringhi, Roma Suiter., tom. I. lib. iii. cap. 22. 

The original of this inscription would be a perfect enigma to the 
inexperienced eye. We have preserved some of the inaccuracies of 
the rude original to show the intelligent reader how difficult it is to 
decipher some of the inscriptions of the Catacombs. 


THE SARDINIAN YOUTH. 


153 


described in the Acts of the martyrs. One, a young 
lad from Sardinia, named Potitus; and the other a 
Bishop, named Alexander, whose diocese is not known. 
The story of Potitus is replete with wonders : it has all 
the romance of the strange lives we have already 
recorded, and is, like them, based on the certainty of 
historical truth, from the unquestionable character ot 
its records. The beautiful, the simple and natural, 
twined here and there with the marvellous, render it one 
of the most interesting of the traditions that hang round 
the venerable walls of the Coliseum. 

2 . 

The Acts do not mention what was the age of Potitus 
when dragged before the tribunals to glorify God in the 
profession of his faith. From the words used we infer 
that he must have been very young. In one place he is 
called an infant, in another a little boy, and more fre¬ 
quently a boy. But, from the custom of those times, a 
person might be called a boy up to his twentieth year, 
and an infant to ten or twelve. Thus we venture to say 
that Potitus was not more than twelve or thirteen when 
the scenes "in his extraordinary career commenced.* His 
father was a pagan, named Hylas. He was opposed 
to Christianity, and persecuted his son on account of his 
religious principles. How the son came to the knowledge 
of the Christian faith is not mentioned ; but the Acts, as 
we quote them from the Bollandists, commence this 
interesting record with a touching scene between the pa¬ 
gan father and the Christian child. 

* We have since found in a MS. in Naples that his age was 
thirteen. 


154 


THE MARTY IIS OF THE COLISEUM . 


Hylas used entreaties and threats to change the deter¬ 
mination of the young Potitus to remain a Christian. 
He tried in vain. The boy’s mind was illumined by a 
celestial light, and the knowledge and perception of sacred 
truth raised him far above the stupidities of paganism. 
The father, finding him inexorable, was angry, and locked 
him up in one of the rooms of his house, telling him he 
would not give him meat or drink until he consented to 
abandon Christianity. 

“ Let us see if your God will help you now,” muttered 
the angry father, as he drew the key from the door. He 
left Potitus locked up all night; but in the morning his 
excited feelings had subsided, and the father’s love, 
which survives every passion, brought him again to the 
room where his son was confined. He found Potitus 
cheerful and merry; love, surprise and curiosity rushed 
through his mind and urged a thousand questions. As¬ 
suming a tone of conciliation and affection, he entered 
into the following conversation with his son.* 

“ 0 my son ! I beseech thee, sacrifice to the gods. The 
Emperor Antoninus has issued orders that every one that 
will not sacrifice is to be put to the torture and exposed 
to the wild beasts. How I regret that you are my only 
child, and you so foolish !” 

“ But, father, what gods am I to sacrifice to 1 What 
are their names ? ” 

“ You do not know my child, of Jupiter, Arpha,t and 
Minerva 1 ” 

* We give the conversation from the original, with some slight 
alterations to meet the idioms of onr language. 

t Arpha is a name seldom met in pagan mythology. We must 
remember there were private gods as -well as public. In each patri¬ 
cian’s house there was a chamber called the lararium , in which were 


THE SARDINIAN YOUTH. 


155 


“Well, indeed, I never heard that God was called Ju¬ 
piter, or Arpha, or Minerva. How could He have all 
these names 1 0 father ! if you only knew how power¬ 

ful is the God of the Christians, who delivered Himself 
for us and saved us, you too would believe in Him. Do 
you not know, father, that a great prophet said, ‘ All the 
gods of the Gentiles are demons!’ ‘ It was the Lord made 
the heavens,’ not Jupiter, nor Arpha nor Minerva.” 

“ Where did you learn these things,” asked Hylas, 
quickly and interrupting him. 

“ Ah ! father,” replied Potitus mildly, “ He whom I 
serve speaks through me ; for He has said in His holy 
gospel, ‘ Do not think how or what you will say, for it 
will be given to you in that hour what to say.’ ” 

“ But, my child, do you not fear the punishments that 
are threatened to be inflicted on Christians 1 If you are 
brought before Antoninus, what will become of you ? 
Those strange doctrines of yours will cause your flesh to 
be torn to pieces by hooks, and you will be eaten up by 
the lions.” 

Potitus smiled. A beam of heavenly joy lit up his 
beautiful countenance ; drawing nearer to his father, he 
placed his hand on the old man’s shoulder, and, looking 
affectionately at him, said, with much fervour and feel¬ 
ing— 

“ Father, you can never frighten me with these things. 
You must know we can do all things in Him who 
strengthens us. Did you ever hear that David alone 
killed Goliah with a stone, and cutting off his head with 
his sword showed it to all the people of Israel 1 His 

placed the idols of the family, called senates. They consisted of 
statues of every size and shape, a«d were numbered by several hun¬ 
dreds. 


156 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM ,. 


armour and strength was the name of the Lord. Yes, 
father,” he continued, after a momentary pause, “ in the 
name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy 
Ghost, I am prepared to suffer everything for Jesus 
Christ.” 

Potitus made the sign of the cross, and folding his 
little hands together he became wrapt in prayer. The 
father watched him in breathless silence. He heard his 
son speak, with a feeling of awe he could not account for. 
The courage, the piety, and eloquence of the saintly boy 
had already won his heart, and the supernatural influence 
of grace which Potitus drew down from heaven completed 
the work o? his conversion. The holy youth, raising his 
head, made one more appeal; his words were accom¬ 
panied by the more powerful eloquence of tears, and with 
all the feeling of his loving heart, he said to his father— 

“ 0 father! believe in our Lord Jesus Christ, and you 
■will be saved. Those gods you serve have no existence, 
they cannot save you. I will tell you what they are, 
father ! They are spirits that burn in a dreadful fire 
which they cannot extinguish. How can you be so mad 
as to worship a piece of coloured wood, or a statue of 
marble that cannot stir ? If it fall it is broken and can¬ 
not lift itself up. It is as lifeless as the clay we tread 
on, as silent as stones at the bottom of the stream ; the 
venomous reptiles that creep on the face of the earth 
have more power than your idols, for they can take your 
life away. O father ! how can these senseless things 
have power against the great God who created everything, 
who stretched out the heavens in all their glory, and 
dressed our earth in all its beauty, who alone is power¬ 
ful, and puts His foot on the head of the dragon and the 
lion r 


THE SARDINIAN YOUTH. 


157 


Another moment and Potitus was locked in the arms 
of his converted father. Their tears flowed in one 
stream to the ground—the tears of innocence and repent¬ 
ance. 

After the conversion* of his father, Potitus was admon¬ 
ished by an interior call to retire to solitude to prepare 
for trials which Almighty God had in store for him. He 
immediately obeyed and secretly left his father’s house, 
and repaired to the mountains of Epirus. Here he was 
favoured with many visions, and was tempted by the 
devil. Almighty God sent an angel to inform him that 
he was to suffer martyrdom for the faith, and how and 
where he was to suffer. The angel instructed him how 
he Avas to preserve himself from the contamination of any 
vice—how he was to fight with the devil and overcome 
his snares and delusions ; an advice poor Potitus had very 
soon to put into practice, for before he left the mountain 
he suffered severe temptations and delusions from the 
wicked spirits. 

On one occasion the demon appeared to him in the 
shape of our Blessed Lord. He seemed so beautiful and 
venerable that the holy youth thought for a moment it 
might be so ; but his humility came to his aid, and he 
feared all was not right, for the great Lord would not 
come to an unworthy wretch as he thought himself. 

“ My dear Potitus,” said the lying spirit, “why do you 
trouble your mind so much with these austerities 1 You 
can go back now to your father’s house and eat and drink; 
I have been greatly moved by your tears, and I have 
come to console you.” Wondering, doubting, and sur¬ 
prised, Potitus could only say: “ I am a servant of Jesus 
Christ.” Then the devil, with all that impudence for 
which he is remarkable, said: “But I am Christ.” 


168 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


“ Then,” said Potitus, “ come let us pray together.” 
At the same moment he remarked that one of his feet 
was of a peculiar shape, and did not touch the ground, 
and he remembered what the angel had said to him. 
Horrified at seeing the vision was really the devil, he 
prayed to God for strength. Immediately the devil 
changed his appearance, and became of gigantic stature, 
with a horrible head.* Potitus took courage, and breath¬ 
ing on the monster, said : “Begone, Satan, for it is writ¬ 
ten the Lord thy God shalt thou adore, and Him only shalt 
thou serve.” Then the devil changed his shape; he be¬ 
came like an enormous bull bellowing like thunder, and 
tried to frighten the holy youth. But when he made 
the sign of the cross the demon seemed to writhe in 
great pain, and cried out: “ 0 Potitus! send me away ; 
why torture me with that sign ? oh, how I burn! ” 
“ Swear to me, by the sign by which I have bound you, 
you will never henceforward annoy any Christian.” 

The devil consented, and immediately he was set free 
he cried out: “ I will go and show my strength amongst 
the pagans. I have got possession of tte daughter of 
Antoninus, and now I will go into the heart of the Em¬ 
peror, and Gelasius the President, and I will make them 
kill you with the most dreadful torments; I will perse¬ 
cute you to death.” 

“ Away, wicked impostor,” cried Potitus ; “ you can 
do nothing but what our Lord Jesus permits. I fear 
not your machinations, but I will go and conquer you in 
the name of the Lord.” The devil left, blaspheming God. 

When Potitus had spent some time in the solitude of 
the mountain preparing himself by prayer and austerity 


* “ Magis crevit cubitis qiiindecitn,” say the Acta. 


THE SARDINIAN YOUTH . 


159 


for the mission he was destined for by God, he left his 
retreat and came to the city of Valeria, at that time the 
principal city of Sardinia. He knew no one in the great 
city, and wearied, and hungry, he sat down in the Forum. 
The people passed without minding him. They were all 
engaged in their different avocations of life. His eye was 
caught with the splendour of the beautiful buildings 
around him. There were columns, and temples, and por¬ 
ticoes of massive and rare marbles; but he drew sweet 
reflections from the varied scene; each new beauty or 
perfection of art which he beheld was an additional 
source of thanksgiving to the goodness of the great Creator 
who gave man such power over dull nature. Yet Potitus 
saw a terrible cloud hang over tnat scene of magnificence 
and art. He looked in vain for the cross that raised the 
people’s hopes on high to a better world ; he did not see 
the sacred sign of redemption dazzling in the light of the 
sun from the highest pinnacles of the temples; the smoke 
of the impure sacrifice which was the abomination of de¬ 
solation curled in the murky atmosphere, with demons 
dancing on its wavy circles. Vice and immorality of 
every description raged around, and the angelic youth 
felt a shudder run through him as he recollected he was 
the only servant of the true God in that vast city. Like 
the diamond, that sparkles with more brilliancy beside a 
duller stone, his peerless soul was the brighter in the 
midst of the impiety that surrounded him, and his prayer 
more powerful before God. Little did the crowds that 
were passing around think the poor boy they saw resting 
on the cold stone bench was in a few hours to be the 
apostle of the Most High to bring them to the know¬ 
ledge of eternal salvation. The instruments of the great- 


160 THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 

est designs of God are the humble and lowly things of 
life. 

Whilst our young Saint was musing to himself, and 
thinking how he could best overthrow the power of dark¬ 
ness that hung like a mist over that benighted people, 
two old men advanced in earnest conversation, and sat 
on the same bench that he occupied. He heard the con¬ 
versation. Almighty God intended he should. 

“ Sad affair for our president! ” said the taller and 
more venerable of the two, as he drew his broad laticlave 
across his shoulders. 

“ How is that 1 ” quoth the other ; “ have the gods 
not been propitious to our noble Agathonis 1 ” 

“ Thou alone, then, hast not heard how an evil blast 
swept over his house, and struck Quiriaca, his spouse, 
with a loathsome disease. See yonder smoke that is 
rising from the temple of the immortal Jupiter! It is 
from the sacrifice of three oxen that Agathonis has been 
offering to propitiate the angry gods ; but her terrible 
disease is increasing, and baffles the skill of our best phy¬ 
sicians. When I passed yesterday afternoon, sounds of 
grief were rolling through the marble halls of the palace, 
and slaves were preparing a funeral pile in the court¬ 
yard.” 

“ Let us go to the house of our afflicted chief,” said the 
other, rising, “ and see if the sacrifice that greeted the 
rising sun has not cheated grim death of its victim.” So 
saying, the two senators moved towards the house of 
Agathonis. 

Potitus heard in the conversation of the old men the 
call of God to proclaim His glory. The powerful name 
of Jesus would cure this sick woman, and many would 


THE SARDINIAN YOUTH. 


161 


believe. He had scarcely a moment’s hesitation in de¬ 
termining how to act; he immediately rose and followed 
the old men at a distance. After passing through one 
or two of the principal streets, they came up to a man¬ 
sion of princely magnificence; stairs of marble, orna¬ 
mented with statues of gold and precious stones, led to a 
stately portico surrounded by a snow-white cornice carved 
like lace, and fresh flowers gave their sweet perfumes 
to the air from priceless Etruscan vases. The senators 
entered with the liberty of friends. Potitus, who followed 
close behind, felt he dare not even soil the polished mar¬ 
ble with his plebeian tread—there is no admission for 
the poor into the palaces of the great. He sat down on 
the steps, and covering his face with his hands, prayed 
that God would manifest His will, and hasten the dawn 
of mercy on this hopeless people. 

Whilst he was wrapt in prayer and holy thoughts, a 
sharp, shrill voice from the top of the stairs roused him 
from his reverie. 

“ Hallo! young man, what are you doing there ? Ho 
beggars are allowed to sit on those steps.” 

Potitus looked up and saw a eunuch dressed in livery, 
a proud, haughty youth, of a thin, effeminate form. He 
mildly replied: “Will you give me a drink of water ? ” 

What more valueless than a few drops of water ? Yet, 
when given in the name of Him who loves charity above 
all other virtues, they may purchase heaven. 

“ It is strange,” said the eunuch, “ that you come here 
to look for water; there are fountains of the purest moun¬ 
tain springs on every side of you; I suspect you have some 
other object in view, but I will watch you.” 

“ Yes,” interrupted Potitus, “ you are right; I desired 
K 


162 


THE MARTYRS OF TtlE COLISEUM. 


■water, and not water alone, but also your faith in our Lord 
Jesus Christ, that there may be peace and blessing of God 
in this house.” 

The eunuch, wondering at what Potitus said, asked : 
“ Who are you 1 I don’t remember to have seen you in 
this city before ; wliat’s your name 1 ” 

“ I am a servant of the Lord Jesus Christ, who is the 
Redeemer of mankind, who can heal the leper and the 
paralytic, give sight to the blind, and raise the dead to 
life.” 

The eunuch listened with attention, knowing that his 
mistress was afflicted with a mortal leprosy, and quickly 
asked the strange youth if he could cure leprosy 1 

“ Yes ! ” answered Potitus; “ my Lord would do it 
through me ; for he has said in His Gospel, * Amen ! I 
say to you if you have faith as a grain of mustard-seed, 
you shall say to this mountain, remove from hence hither? 
and it shall remove ; and nothing shall be impossible to 
you’” (Matt. xvii. 19). 

“ Then you can really cure my mistress ? ” asked the 
eunuch, impatiently. 

“ Yes, if she believe I will cure her.” 

“ She will make you lord of all her wealth.” 

11 Ah ! friend, I don’t desire silver or gold, or riches of 
any kind. I sigh only to unite her soul to Jesus in the 
light and knowledge of faith.” 

These last words were not heard by the eunuch; he had 
fled inside the mansion, and rushing into his mistress’ 
room with that liberty which eunuchs enjoyed, recounted 
in breathless haste to the sick matron how a strange 
youth was sitting on the steps of the house who could cure 
leprosy. He was ordered immediately to be admitted to 


THE SARDINIAN YOUTH. 


163 


her presence. The youth was brought through splendid 
halls, ornamented with naked statues and figures which 
made him close his eyes with holy shame. When he had 
entered into the room where Quiriaca was lying in her 
loathsome disease, he said: “ The peace of our Lord Jesus 
Christ be with all here.'’ 

The sick lady lay on a crimson couch, attended by two 
or three slaves, holding fresh flowers in their hands, and 
waving beautiful fans to cause a cooling current of air. 
The room was hung with rich tapestry, representing 
scenes from mythology. A beautiful lamp stood in the 
middle of the room, on a marble pedestal of exquisite 
carving ; near the couch there was a table of odoriferous 
cedar-wood, supporting a casket of jewels, a mirror, and 
a stiletto to punish the slaves, all of which were ever 
within reach of the patrician dames of the first centuries. 
Quiriaca seemed advanced in years, but was frightfully 
disfigured by her disease ; the extremities of her hands 
and feet had already fallen off, and she was becoming 
an object of disgust to every one forced to serve her. 
Her internal agony of spirit was still worse than her 
corporeal sufferings. Her pride and vanity were stung to 
the quick ; she saw herself shunned by the other matrons 
of the city, banished from the tricliniums, and doomed 
to drag on her miserable existence in involuntary solitude 
and shame. When she heard that a strange boy had 
come who could cure her, she raised herself with in¬ 
tense joy ; hope, that had so long been a stranger to her 
breaking heart, returned to console her, and the mo¬ 
ment the door was opened to usher in Potitus, she cried 
out with animation : “ 0 young man ! cure me, cure me!’» 

She was struck with the beauty and modesty of the 


164 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


youth; a heavenly sweetness beamed on his countenance, 
and his eyes were cast on the ground. Gently raising his 
head, and looking towards the matron, he said : “ You 
must first believe, and then you and your whole house 
shall see the good work.” 

11 Oh ! I believe, I believe! ” she cried frantically; 
“ there is no other God but yours—do cure me.” 

Potitus knelt. All were silent. A number of slaves 
and attendants had now gathered into the room, for 
the eunuch had run to tell them that his mistress was 
going to be cured. After a few moments’ pause, Poti¬ 
tus stretched out his arms, and turning his eyes towards 
heaven, prayed thus aloud—■ 

“ 0 Lord Jesus Christ, King of angels and Kedeemer 
of souls ! Thou hast said to Thy disciples, 1 Make clean 
the leper, and raise the dead.’ Grant to me, Thy ser¬ 
vant, that Thy grace may descend on this woman, that 
this people may see Thou art God, and there is no other 
God but Thee.” 

He had scarcely finished his prayer, when a light flashed 
on the body of Quiriaca—she was cured. All her de¬ 
formities disappeared; she sprung from her couch, seized 
the mirror; her skin became fairer than the purest Car¬ 
rara marble, tinted with the blush of the rose. The at¬ 
tendants gathered round in wonder, and their exclama¬ 
tions of joy and surprise filled the chamber with a confu¬ 
sion of sounds. Quiriaca could not contain herself; mes¬ 
sengers were despatched through the city to seek her 
husband—to call friends—to announce the joyful news. 
A few moments and the house, the portico, and the street 
were filled with people, and the miracle was told and re¬ 
told by a thousand tongues. The Acts say the issue of 


THE SARDINIAN YOUTH. 


165 


this miracle was the conversion of half the city (media 
civitatis). 

Potitus remained some time to complete the great work 
God had commenced. But finding too much honour and 
praise were lavished on him, he stole away once more to 
his favourite retreat on the hills. Almighty God wished 
him to prepare for other and greater wonders. Before 
leaving the city, he sent some of the most trustworthy of 
his converts to Borne, to announce to the holy Pope, Ani- 
cetus, the blessings God had conferred on the city of Va- 
leria. A bishop and some zealous priests were sent to 
tend the flock ; through their exertions the whole country 
round embraced the faith, which they never lost. The 
city of Valeria, however, has long since passed away; 
the beautiful but ill-kept city of Cagliari stands near its 
ruins. 

3. 

Whilst the events we have just recorded were passing 
in Sardinia, there was a strange scene of confusion and 
grief in the palace of the Csesars at Borne. The only 
daughter of the Emperor Antoninus, a young girl in the 
bloom of childhood, bearing the sweet name of Agnes, 
was possessed by the devil. We dare not investigate the 
laws that guide these terrible judgments of God : they 
are wrapt in impenetrable mystery. The child Agnes 
may have been too young to be steeped in moral guilt; 
her greatest crime may have been a love of dress, or a 
momentary act of disobedience. Around her were parri¬ 
cides, murderers, adulterers, and wretches of the deepest 
depravity that can load the conscience of man; yet the 
lightning of the thunder- cloud that blasts the lily may 


16G 


TIIE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


leave untouched the blasphemer. Say not, ’Tis chance— 
there is no such thing as chance with God ; ’tis the mys¬ 
terious embrace of mercy, justice and judgment! The 
Divine Spirit strikes with one hand and saves with the 
other. These awful visitations, so terrible in themselves, 
have been invariably the commencement of the richest 
spiritual blessings. Such was the case with the daughter 
of Antoninus. 

The evil spirit so tortured her that she became an object 
of terror to all the household. She made the marble 
halls ring with the most terrific screams. At table she 
was raised as if by some invisible hand by the hair, and 
let fall with such violence that all wondered that the 
bones of her delicate frame were not broken. One mo¬ 
ment calm and tranquil as of yore, and then a maniac— 
a fury rushing with deadly violence on her attendants, 
and dashing to pieces every ornament within her reach. 
The imperial palace was filled with grief; the royal phy¬ 
sicians were baffled, and knew neither the disease nor the 
remedies. In vain the pious Emperor offered the daily 
sacrifice in the temple; in vain he led to the altar of 
Jupiter victim after victim—oxen with gilt horns, and 
decorated with garlands of flowers ; the devil laughed 
through the lips of Agnes, and gloried in the sacrifices 
offered to himself. At length the Almighty obliged him 
to tell the Emperor that he would not leave the body of 
his daughter until the holy youth Potitus would come, 
giving directions where he could be found, and what he 
was doing at that moment. Antoninus believing this to 
be a response from his gods, ordered Gelasius, the presi¬ 
dent of the city, to go with fifty men to seize Potitus, and 
bring him to Pome. 


THE SARDINIAN YOUTH. 


167 


A few weeks have passed, and Potitus is standing before 
the Emperor. Curiosity made him anxious to see the 
man who alone could drive the evil spirit from his daugh¬ 
ter ; he expected to see some hoary magician from the 
sands of Egypt, or some weird gipsy from the banks of 
the Nile, or some high priest from the provinces who was 
a favourite with the gods. He was surprised to see 
before him a poor, ill-clad youth of thirteen or fourteen 
years of age; yet there shone in his countenance a beauty 
and a sweetness which made the Emperor and all look on 
him with wondering delight. After a moment’s silence, 
lie asked him : “ Who and what are you ? ” 

Potitus mildly replied : “ I am a Chistian! ” 

“What! a Christian?” exclaimed the Emperor, as if 
he heard something terrible. “ Have you not heard the 
orders of the Prince, that all who belong to that hated 
sect must die h ” 

“ I desire to die,” was the meek reply of Potitus. 
Antoninus would have given expression to his animo¬ 
sity against the Christians ; but the thought of his suffer¬ 
ing child made him conceal and postpone the resolution 
he had already formed to make the innocent youth before 
him sacrifice or die. He dissembled the tone of his 
address, and by bland insinuations of flattery and reward, 
he thought to gain from the young Christian first the cure 
of his daughter, and then the gratification of that spirit 
of cruelty and fanaticism which has been sarcastically 
called piety towards the gods. 

“ I have heard of your great name,” said the deceitful 
Emperor. “ Can you cure my child 1 If you can, I will 
enrich you with boundless wealth.” 

“ Why don’t your gods cure her 1 ” asked Potitus. 


£ 


1C8 


THE MARTYRS OF TIIE COLISEUM. 


“ How dare you speak so contemptuously to me ? w 

A troublesome question to a Roman Emperor, remind¬ 
ing him of his weakness, superstition, and pride, was 
downright contempt. 

“ Well,” said Potitus ; if I cure your daughter, will 
you believe in the God I believe in ] ” 

After a few moments’ hesitation, he said : “ I will." 

It was a false promise he did not intend to keep ; but 
God, who readeth the secrets of hearts, sent a light into 
the soul of Potitus and permitted him to see the hypocrisy 
of the impious Emperor, and the judgment already pre¬ 
pared for him as abandoned by God. Looking sternly at 
Antoninus, the noble youth spoke with majesty and forcer 
“ False Emperor! thou art weighed in the balance and. 
found wanting ; thy heart is hardened and unconverted ; 
but that those who stand around may believe in the Lord 
Jesus Christ, I will free thy daughter from the spirit 
which torments her—let her be brought in.” 

The young girl was led in, supported by some attend¬ 
ants. She was worn away to a skeleton ; her eyes were 
bloodshot and wild; the fresh bloom of youth had left 
her cheek ; she was so weak she could hardly stand, yet 
the attendants could scarcely force her into the presence 
of the holy youth. She trembled from head to foot, and 
the moment she came in sight of him, she screamed, with 
terror in her voice, “ It is Potitus! ” 

He commanded her to be still. He prayed for a mo¬ 
ment, and then said aloud : “ Impious spirit, I command 
thee, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, to leave this 
girl, who is one of God’s creatures.” 

The devil, answering, said : “ If you drive me lienee, I 
will persecute you to death.” 


THE SARDINIAN YOUTH. 


169 


But Potitus, not seeming to notice him, advanced and 
breathed on her, and immediately she was thrown to the 
ground with a great shock ; the palace was shaken to its 
foundations, and the Emperor and all the bystanders saw 
a horrid figure, like a dragon, going out through the 
window, leaving in the room an insupportable stench of 
fire and brimstone. Agnes lay on the ground as if dead; 
but Potitus came towards her, and took her cold thin 
hand in his, and lifted her on her feet. She was immedi¬ 
ately restored to her senses ; her whole appearance was 
changed, as if she had been only wearing a mask ; her 
sunken cheeks became full and rosy; her beautiful blue 
eyes sparkled once more with innocence and beauty; het 
hair, too, that hung in careless knots in confusion about 
her, became brilliant and glossy, and fell in charming 
ringlets on her snowy breast. The touch of the Christian 
youth changed the emaciated and persecuted little Agnes 
to a child as bright and as cheerful as Eve when she first 
trod on the flowers of Eden ! The demons will never 
again have power over this beautiful child. She is now 
made for heaven. Potitus himself poured the waters of 
baptism on her head before tens of thousands of the 
Roman people in the arena of the Coliseum ; but strange 
events were first to happen. 

Antoninus was not converted. After embracing his 
Agnes, and convincing himself that the blooming girl 
before him was really his child, he cried out: “ This boy 
is a magician : I thank the gods for having cured my 
daughter.” Potitus, who trembled at the blasphemy of 
the Emperor, said immediately : “ Woe to thee, foolish 

prince ! thou hast seen the wonders of God, yet thou wilt 
not believe. It was not the gods that cured thy daughter 
but my Lord Jesus Christ.” 


170 


THE MARTYllS OF THE COLISEUM. 


“ Do you yet persist in this silly and proud language ? 
Do you not know that I am the Emperor, and can force 
you to sacrifice, or have you cut to pieces by slow torture, 
or devoured by wild beasts in the amphitheatre 1 ” 

“ I don’t fear thee, nor thy cruel threats. My Lord 
can preserve me.” 

“ It grieves me to see your folly, for you enrage me to 
punish you.” 

“Ah ! Antoninus, grieve rather over thyself, for thou 
are preparing for thyself a terrible hell, where thou wilt 
burn with thy father, the devil, who has hardened thy 
heart.” 

This was enough to rouse the concealed indignation oi 
the Emperor ; and rising from his seat in a fit of passion 
he ordered two lictors to seize the youth and flog him. 
Notwithstanding the murmurs of pity that broke from 
every one in the room, and the beseeching tears of the 
beautiful Agnes, Potitus was stripped, and beaten with 
heavy sticks nearly to death. The only expression that 
escaped his lips was : “ Thanks be to God.” Although 
his tender flesh was torn and discoloured, yet Almighty 
God took away all pain, and the heavy clubs fell like 
straws on his back and shoulders.*, After they had 
beaten him thus for some time, the Emperor ordered them 
to stop, that he might ask the holy youth to sacrifice to 
the gods. 

“ To what gods ? ” asked Potitus. 

“Do you then not know Jupiter, and Minerva, and 
Apollo ? ”- 

“ Let us see what sort of gods they are, that we may 
sacrifice to them,” said Potitus. 


“ Et nullum dolorem csedentium sentio.”— Acts. 



THE SARDINIAN YOUTH . 


171 


The Emperor was filled with joy at this reply. He 
immediately ordered the youth to be clothed, and led to 
the temple of Apollo, supposing he had conquered the 
faith of Potitus, and induced him to apostatize. A great 
crowd followed them to the temple; the cure of the Em¬ 
peror’s daughter by the strange youth had already passed 
through the city. Some came to see the girl that was 
cured, and others were filled with curiosity about Potitus. 
Amongst the crowd, which the Acts say amounted to 
about ten thousand,* there were many Christians who 
came to pray that God would give strength to His ser¬ 
vant to glorify His name. When they had come up to 
the splendid temple of Apollo on the Palatine, a passage 
was made in the crowd for the Emperor and his attend¬ 
ants, and then came Potitus between two lictors. His 
eyes were cast on the ground—he looked at no one, but 
seemed wrapt in thought. That thought was prayer. Ar¬ 
rived at the foot of the statue, he knelt and folded his 
hands on his breast. Whilst a terrible silence reigned in 
the crowd, they suddenly saw the statue move towards 
them, and then, with a tremendous crash, fall to the 
ground. It was broken into a thousand pieces, so small 
that they looked more like dust than fragments of the 
colossal god. Potitus, who had destroyed the idol, with¬ 
out stirring hand or foot, by breathing a prayer in his 
soul, sprung cheerfully to his feet, and turning towards 
the Emperor before all the people, said : “Are these your 
gods, Antoninus V* 

“ Boy! you have deceived me,” cried the angry Em¬ 
peror ; “ by your magic you have overthrown the god.” 


* “ Erat enim turba hominura quasi decern millia.”— Acts. 


172 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


“ But if he were a god,” said Potitus, sarcastically, 

“ Could he not defend himself 1 ” 

Confused, defeated, and still hardened, the Emperor 
ordered him to be taken to prison until some terrible in¬ 
strument of death should be prepared for him. He told 
the guards to put one hundred and twenty pounds weight 
of iron round his neck for fear he might escape. But 
Almighty God sent an angel to console him in his prison, 
who touched the heavy weights of iron, and they melted 
like wax. The guards saw his cell lit up with the most 
beautiful light, and heard the sweetest music until day¬ 
break in the morning. 

Antoninus had determined to expose his victim to the 
wild beasts in the Coliseum, but first to gratify his re¬ 
venge by putting him to the torture. He sent criers 
through the city, and ordered the .people to meet him in 
the amphitheatre on the following day. It would seem 
that the providence of God gave strength to the voice of 
the herald, that the entire people, and not a few only, 
should be witness of His power, and the divinity of His 
Church proved in the humble youth He had chosen to 
represent Him. The following day the amphitheatre was 
filled with all classes, from the senators down to the sol¬ 
diers and people.* The Emperor and all his court were 
present. By his side was a beautiful little girl dressed 
in white—all eyes were fixed on her. A loud and deafen¬ 
ing shout of congratulation greeted her as she entered. 
She thanked them, and moved her little hands in recog¬ 
nition of the public sympathy ; the girl was Agnes. She 
is not aware of the part she is to take in the spectacle 


“ Et impletum est amphitheatrum populo.'*— Acjts. 


THE SARDINIAN YOUTH . 


173 


that is coming. From the moment she was delivered 
from her tormentor, she longed to become a Christian. 
She felt such sincere gratitude towards the youth who 
liberated her, that she could have done anything he 
wished. The waters of baptism had not yet purified her 
soul, and every throb of her heart beat in real human 
love for him ; her wealth, her affections, herself, were all 
for him, if he would but deign to accept them. She was, 
moreover, convinced of the truth of Christianity. Besides 
the miracle performed in her favour, she was present 
when the statue of Apollo crumbled to pieces at the 
prayer of Potitus, and she immediately asked her stern 
father to allow her to worship the God of the Christians. 
He rebuked her with severity, and threatened to burn 
her alive if she dared to invoke the name of the true God. 
The brave child had already resolved to leave the palace 
of her father, and live with the Christians in the caves of 
the earth ; but this will not be demanded of her. God 
has taken her in hands : a few minutes more and she 
will be a Christian. 

The scene that passed in the Coliseum is one of the 
strangest we have to record. The amphitheatre was 
filled. Not all applauded the cruel policy of the Em¬ 
peror ; there were thousands present who disapproved of 
the cruelty and fanaticism which condemned the inno¬ 
cent youth to be devoured by the wild beasts. The cries, 
the hootings, and hisses,* which were poured from every 
bench on the hypocritical Emperor proved that his false 
piety to the gods had carried him too far. 

* It is a strange fact that hissing was used in the Coliseum as a sign 
of displeasure. It is not generally so in the Italian theatres at pre¬ 
sent. 


174 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


The trumpet sounds, and Potitus is led into the arena. 
Half-stripped, chained, and surrounded by the lictors, he 
is brought before the Emperor. His arms are folded in 
the form of a cross on his breast; he is wrapt in prayer ; 
he looks more beautiful than ever. What means the 
deep murmur that rolls like the break of the ocean billow 
through the vast amphitheatre ? What mean those ex¬ 
pressions of sympathy and pity so unusual in that temple 
of the Furies—the theatre of immolation and bloodshed 1 
Antoninus understands it well, but piety to his gods urges 
him on, and steels his heart against mercy. Potitus must 
die. 

When silence was restored, Antoninus said, “Well, 
young man, do you see where you are 1 ” 

“ Yes,” answered Potitus, “lam on God’s earth.” 

“Hah ! you are in my hands now, and I should like 
to see the God that will take you out of them.” 

Potitus smiled sarcastically, and quietly said, “ Simple¬ 
ton that you are, Antoninus ! a dog is better than you for 
it knows more.”* 

The Emperor ordered him to be stretched on the rack, 
and fiery torches to be applied to his sides. 

The holy youth was stretched at full length on a wooden 
frame. Ropes were fastened to his hands and feet, and 
joined underneath to a windlass wheel. By every turn 
of this wheel the body of the person is drawn several 
inches beyond its natural length, and when the pressure 
is too severe, the bones start from their sockets, the flesh 
breaks, and the most excruciating torture, and even death, 
ensue. Then, to add to the dreadful pain, lighted flam- 

* “ Melior cst canis quam tu co quia plus sapit.”— Acta. 


THE SARDINIAN YOUTH. 


175 


beaux are applied to the sides, so that the tender coating 
that covers the ribs is consumed in a few moments. 

Whilst Potitus was undergoing this torture he seemed 
full of joy. The people could not understand it. Through 
the whole of the amphitheatre were heard expressions of 
“ How well he bears it!” “ What courage, what endur¬ 

ance ! he doesn’t even complain.” “ Surely the God of 
Peter is with that youth ! ” 

The Emperor thought he had now at least subdued 
Potitus. He ordered him to be taken from the rack, and 
asked him which would he choose—to sacrifice or to die 1 
Potitus seemed as if he had been lying on a bed of roses. 
Almighty God had nulled all pain, and by a miracle pre¬ 
served his limbs from the slightest deformation. Once 
more he scoffed at the threats of the Emperor, and defied 
his efforts to torture him or take away his life. Antoni¬ 
nus ordered some wild beasts to be let loose on him to 
devour him. They came bounding into the arena, but 
forgetting their native ferocity commenced to lick the 
feet of the holy youth.* They gathered round him in 
respect, and lay down on the sand of the arena in dif¬ 
ferent postures, so as to form a circle. 

The scene was strange and beautiful. Potitus was on 
his knees in the middle of them, and his hands and eyes 
were raised towards heaven in prayer ; the animals seemed 
to fear to make the least noise that might disturb him in 
his communion with their common Lord and Creator. The 
Emperor was surprised beyond measure, and little Agnes 
shed tears of joy. The people gazed for a few minutes on 

* Ad cujus vestigia itidem ferse venientes deposita omni ferina 
rabie eb occurrentes huiniles capite osculabantur pedes ejus, etc.— 
Acts. 


176 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


the strange scene with breathless silence, then, as if by 
common accord, they broke into a shout of applause that 
rolled like the echo of thunder through the arches of the 
mighty amphitheatre. When silence was restored, Potitus 
rose from his kneeling position and moved towards the 
Emperor; the animals followed, and kept close to him 
as if they loved to be in his company. Patting a mom 
strous lion on the head, he said, smiling, to the Emperor: 

“ Now, where are your threats ? Do you not see there 
is a God who can deliver me from you 1 That God is 
Jesus whom I serve.” 

Antoninus was humbled, shamed, maddened. He 
heeded not the question of the holy youth, but command¬ 
ed some gladiators to enter the arena and slay him. A 
scene still more extraordinary than that which we have 
just described ensued. The gladiators entered to slay 
Potitus. Four brutal wretches gathered round him. They 
wield their swords, but lo ! they are unable to touch him. 
An angel was there to turn their strokes aside, and they 
fell harmlessly on the air. They laboured with all their 
strength to strike him, but to no effect: he stood smiling 
in the midst of them, more like a beautiful phantom than 
a human being.* When the gladiators were so wearied 
that they could not wield their swords any longer, they 
gave up the fruitless task, and left the arena amidst the 
hisses and hootings of the excited people. 

The scene of wonder is not yet over. The hardened 
heart of the Emperor is darker than ever; the miracles 
which failed to convince him, excited him to greater rage, 

* Nam sicut tentabant quodcumque ex membris ejus abscindere 
ita Domini virtus opitulabatur ut non ad exiguum attingere eum 
valebant.— Acts. 


THE SARDINIAN YOUTH. 


17 / 


and, as it a demon sat in his place, he determined to at¬ 
tempt again the life of the holy youth. Rejected calls of 
grace deepened the guilt and blindness of the hardened 
sinner. Every new miracle worked by Potitus made him 
cry out more and more, it was by magic and by sorcery 
that he produced these wonderful effects. The same spirit 
characterizes unbelief in the present day; miracles as clear 
as the light of heaven, as incontestable as our own exist¬ 
ence, are attributed to priestcraft, hallucination, or open 
falsehood. 

There was the greatest commotion amongst the people. 
Shouts assailed the Emperor from every side. Every one 
seemed to be amazed at his defeat, and the reproaches 
which fell upon his ears drove him to desperation. He 
had another instrument of torture introduced in order to 
overcome Potitus, but this time the tables were complete¬ 
ly turned on himself, and we have yet to record in this 
chapter one of the most extraordinary scenes that ever 
happened in the Coliseum. 

The instrument he had now prepared was a pair of 
pincers with two large spikes, which were intended to 
pass through the head and meet in the very brain, so that 
there was no possibility of living after the application of 
this terrible torture. When the people saw the execu¬ 
tioners coming into the arena once more, bearing this hor¬ 
rible instrument in their hands, they became silent, and 
leaned forward with the most intense anxiety to see the 
issue. Potitus freely offered his head to the executioners. 
The moment the spikes were applied, the holy youth 
prayed aloud that Almighty God would remove the in¬ 
strument of torture from him and place it on the head of 
Antoninus. He had no sooner finished his prayer, than 
L 


178 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


the instrument was lifted from his head before all the 
people, and carried by an invisible hand to the head of 
the Emperor.* There was great laughter and wonder 
amongst the people; the disorder lasted for a considerable 
time. When they were silent again, they heard the Em¬ 
peror moaning in the most excruciating pain. All his 
attendants had gathered round him, and tried in vain to 
remove the spikes; he writhed and struggled as if in the 
agonies of death, and the senators and his attendants were 
filled with consternation. At length he cried out, in the 
most agonising pain, “ Oh! save me, servant of God ! 
save me ! I know your God is powerful—oh ! free me 
from this terrible pain.” 

Potitus said, “ Why don’t your gods free you, as my 
Lord Jesus Christ freed me 1 ” 

But Antoninus still cried out louder, “Mercy, young 
man! mercy ! for I am dying.” 

The senators and attendants in terror besought the 
young man to save the Emperor ; little Agnes too, in the 
impulse of filial love, raised her white hands in suppli¬ 
cation for her father. There was a death-like stillness 
amongst the people as they watched what was passing. 
Potitus at length, taking compassion on the worthless 
Emperor, cried out in a loud voice: 

“Well, I will cure him, if he will permit Agnes to 
become a Christian.” 

He assented. Before he had given the permission, 
little Agnes flew like a bird through the benches, and 
rushing into the arena, threw herself at the feet of the 
holy youth, breathless and unable to speak with joy. She 
knelt before him, and stretching out her arms, she looked 


Et fixit eum in caput Antonini imperatoris.”— Acts. 


TI1E SARDINIAN YOUTH. 


179 


up to him with tears flowing down her beautiful counte¬ 
nance, and cried out with vehemence, “ Oh ! baptize me! 
baptize me ! ” 

Potitus ordered some one near to bring him water 
He addressed a few words to the lovely child as she still 
knelt before him, and being convinced of her knowledge 
of the faith, he baptized her before the whole concourse 
of people. The moment the saving waters fell on the 
forehead of the pagan child, the terrible spikes which 
were piercing the brain of Antoninus were lifted from his 
head by the same invisible hand that took them there, 
and were flung into the arena with violence, bearing the 
stains of his blood. Nothing could be heard but cries 
of “ Great is the God of Potitus ! ” The Emperor was 
astounded at what had happened; he seemed like one 
awakened from a terrible dream ; the amphitheatre was 
swimming round him, and his heart beat with fear and 
anger. He had scarcely recovered from the shock of the 
terrible pain he had just suffered, when he saw Potitus 
leading Agnes towards him. The demon that ruled his 
perverted spirit urged him to vent still further his im¬ 
potent rage on the holy youth; but an invisible power 
restrained him, and he was forced to hear Potitus speak. 
They were his last words to the impious Antoninus; they 
were short, powerful and prophetic. 

“ Antoninus, Emperor of the great Eoman people! lis¬ 
ten to me, a servant of Jesus Christ. I have conquered 
thee in all thou hast prepared for me; now the scene is 
over. Whilst thou dost persevere in thy impiety, I am 
not to lose my crown ; that crown can only come to me 
by the sword, and in the place that I shall point out. The 
mercy of God has to-day called this child to the know- 


180 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


ledge and light of truth. Woe to thee, if thou dost in¬ 
terfere with her—that moment she will be taken from 
thee. Call thy lictors and let them tarry not. I long to 
be united to my Lord Jesus Christ.” Then turning to 
Agnes, he said: “ Farewell, my child ! and be faithful to 
the grace thou hast received to-day.” 

The Emperor, who was still maddened by his shame 
and defeat, was delighted at the hope of getting rid of 
the troublesome youth, and ordered the president, Gela- 
sius, to see the sentence executed as Potitus wished. He 
was led away from the amphitheatre amidst the murmurs 
of all the people, and thus ended one of the most exrta- 
ordinary scenes that ever passed within the walls of the 
Coliseum. 

The Acts say that about two thousand persons were 
converted. All went to their homes from the amphi¬ 
theatre struck with wonder at what they had seen, and 
filled with the greatest sympathy for the powerful but 
persecuted Christians. For days and weeks afterwards, 
those startling scenes in the Coliseum were the topic 
of conversation in the lounging rooms of the Baths and 
the benches of the Forum. The pagans endeavoured to 
explain all their mysteries by omnipotent magic, whilst 
(the Christians sang their hymns of thanksgiving to the 
true God for the manifestation of His glory. 

A few days afterwards, Gelasius and his troops re¬ 
turned with the news of the death of the holy youth. 
They reported that when his head was cut off, they saw 
his soul going to heaven in the form of a dove. The 
precise place of his martyrdom is unknown ; the Acts 
mention a place called Milianus, in Apulia, but all vestige 
of such a name has been long since lost; even the river 


THE SARDINIAN YOUTH. 


181 


Banus, on whose banks the martyrdom is said to have 
taken place, is not known.* 

Although some doubt may be thrown on the place of 
his martyrdom, there is no question of the authenticity 
of the Acts. They are given in an epitomised form in 
nearly all the martyrologies; also in Ferrarius Michaelus 
Monachus, Caesar Eugenius Carraciolus, and De Yipera 
(S.J.), &c. 

The Bollandists give two editions of his life in Acts, 
quoted from MSS. preserved in the monastery of St. 
Martin of Tours, and from a MS. preserved in the con¬ 
vent erected to his name at Naples by the saintly Bishop 
Severus. In the latter MS. there are some beautiful 
Latin verses of a very ancient date, referring to St. Poti- 
tus. The following are a few stanzas :—• 

“ O Stella Christi fulgida, 

Potite, martyr inclyte, 

Obscura culpae nubila 
A meute nostra discute. 

** Tu, clarus inter martyres, 

Fulges ut inter sidera 
Sol, ac ut inter Candida 
Ligustra candent lilia. 

“ Luces ut ardent lampada, 

Humana lustrans pectora, 

Ut sol per orbem spargens, 

Humana siccans vulnera. 

“Non sic, Potite, cynnama 
Attrita sperant moribus, 

* The Roman Martyrology says in Sardinia, so also Baronius, An. 
154. We are inclined to follow this opinion as the most probable, 
especially as his relics have been found under a church bearing his 
name near Cagliari. 


182 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


Ut tu modestus florida 
iEtate fragras sseculo. 

“ Post clara mortis funera, 

Illustris inter angelos, 

Tanto refulges lumine 
Quanto per orbem nomine.” 

In the eleventh century the relics of this holy martyr 
were discovered, together with others, underneath an old 
church in Sardinia. Although there was no name on 
the sarcophagus, yet there was no mistaking the identity; 
for beside Potitus was laid the instrument which was ap¬ 
plied to his head in the Coliseum, and miraculously 
transferred to the head of Antoninus. There was no 
other martyr of Sardinia punished in this way. Besides, 
there was a constant tradition that Potitus was buried 
under that church. It was in search of his body these 
discoveries were made. Jacobus Pintus, who gives an 
account of this discovery in his fifth Book De Christo 
Crucifixo , says: “In other places other sacred bodies 
were discovered, not without similar marks of sanctity 
and martyrdom, exhaling a most fragrant odour. Amongst 
the arguments or instruments of martyrdom, that especi¬ 
ally was remarkable and interesting which was found in 
a larger and more precious sarcophagus ; for, together 
with a great quantity of the bones, there lay the spikes 
that pierced from head to neck; and although there was 
no epitaph to record the martyr’s name, it is well known 
there was no Sardinian martyr who suffered in this way 
except Potitus, whose relics, as is seen from all the mar* 
tyrologies, were brought from Italy into Sardinia.”— 
Boliandists , 13 th January. 

The reader, no doubt, will be anxious to hear some- 


THE SARDINIAN YOUTH. 


183 


thing of the after history of Agnes. She was not des¬ 
tined to receive the martyr’s crown. The few years of 
her life were spent in peace in the imperial palace. 

Antoninus dreaded to interfere with her; he saw some¬ 
thing supernatural about his daughter, which made him 
look on her with awe and veneration. Every time she 
flitted like an angel across his path, he thought of the 
last terrible warning given him by Potitus. She was 
permitted to live in the imperial palace; by her virtues 
and heroic example, she proved the divinity of her faith 
as perfectly as if she were playing with lions in the arena 
of the Coliseum. She passed her days unsullied by the 
luxury and vanity of the pagan court. Like a freshly- 
culled lily, floating in all its beauty and odour on the 
muddy waters of the Tiber, she was carried into the great 
ocean of eternity without a stain of blood or vice on the 
angelic form that was restored to her by the Sardinian 
Youth. 



CHAPTER X. 

ALEXANDER, BISHOP AND MARTYR. 

1 . 

§ LEXANDER is the third Bishop whom we find to 
have been exposed to the wild beasts in the Coli¬ 
seum. He seems to have been fired with the zeal and 
love of an Ignatius, and raised to the wonderful and 
supernatural like Eleutherius. His Acts present us with 
another scene of baffled tyranny and triumphant grace ; 
and although we find repeated the same tale of wonder 
and mercy, yet, as with the annual return of spring, the 
flowers have ever new charms and nature new beauties, 
so each well-earned crown that we meet with in our path 
delights us with its wondrous fragrance and its surpassing 
beauty. Each martyrdom is like a garden decked with 
all the flowers and exhaling all the odours of sanctity and 
virtue. Stern facts only have come down to us through 
the lapse of centuries, yet they are caught up by the 
imagination like rugged cliffs in a mirage, and decorated 
with all the charms of poetry and romance. We might 
almost imagine that the same pen that wrote the bio¬ 
graphy of the Bible, in its rugged simplicity had been 
borrowed for the Acts of the Martyrs. The great heroes 


ALEXANDER , BISHOP AND MARTYR. 185 

of those remote times had their long lives of eight hun¬ 
dred or nine hundred years summed up in these simple 
words, “ he lived and died.” Thus in the Acts of the 
Martyrs we frequently find short rapid sentences, and 
the briefest possible expressions : months, and even years 
sometimes, pass between events that are recorded in the 
same line, and, to a casual reader, they would seem to 
have passed in the same hour. 

(The Acts of Alexander bear a very ancient date; 
they are simple and beautiful. They do not mention in 
what part of the reign of Antoninus the holy Bishop 
suffered. The Emperor reigned for twenty-three years, 
and it is probable twenty of these passed between the 
martyrdom of Potitus and Alexander. We are inclined 
to believe that Alexander suffered first, although we have 
accidentally placed the Acts of Potitus first. Both are 
well authenticated, and both suffered under Antoninus; 
their chronological position will not interfere with these 
interesting records.) 

Our present sketch commences with a scene in a small 
town in Italy. The Acts introduce Alexander at once 
as a Bishop at his post in the midst of his people, com¬ 
bating the powers of darkness and spreading the glad 
tidings of the gospel. His sanctity and zeal, aided by a 
supernatural power of miracles, were fast breaking 
through the barriers of sin and infidelity, and raising the 
cross of the Crucified over the temples of the false gods. 

Alexander was one of those holy men sent by Almighty 
God for the establishment of His Church. His preaching 
was confirmed by the most wonderful miracles; the 
promise of our Blessed Lord was fulfilled in him, that His 
disciples should perform even greater miracles than He 


186 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


himself. One morning, when he was engaged in prayer, 
he was disturbed by a pagan woman, who came to him 
wailing and crying, for her only son was dead. The poor 
mother had heard of the wonders worked by the Bishop. 
She was yet a pagan and unconverted; but in the deep 
sorrow of her disconsolate heart she madly seized the 
last hope that came to her with the name of the powerful 
Christian, and, throwing herself on her knees before him, 
begged of him to call her son back again to life. Alex¬ 
ander heard the voice of God calling him to promote His 
greater glory and save innumerable souls. He consoled 
the weeping mother, and bade her return to her house, 
promising he would follow immediately. After a few 
moments spent in prayer, he rose up and went to her 
house. 

The boy had been dead for seve. al hours, lie was a 
beautiful child, cut off in the bloom of youth by an acci¬ 
dent. He left his mother’s house that morning full of 
health and spirits to play with his companions, but in a 
few hours was brought home dead. A large crowd of 
friends and sympathisers had already gathered round the 
couch on which he lay; some were looking sorrowfully 
on the calm features of the beautiful boy, others were 
slowly and solemnly repeating his name, according to the 
custom of the ancients, whilst others cast fresh flowers 
on his bed. His little companions cried lustily, for they 
loved him much. Hear his pillow there was one in par¬ 
ticular overcome with grief, who exclaimed from time to 
time, in the midst of convulsive sobs: “ Poor Lucius! 
you said you would become a Christian when you’d get 
big.” This was a Christian boy who used to serve the 
Bishop’s mass every morning, and who afterwards became 
a priest. 


ALEXANDER , BISHOP AND MARTYR . 187 

When Alexander arrived, all became silent, and stood 
aside to allow him to pass. The Christians who were 
present *jaw in their saintly Bishop the representative of 
Him who gave joy to the weeping widow outside the 
gates of Nain. He approached the bed, and remained 
wrapt in prayer for a moment, then taking the boy’s hand, 
said, in a loud voice, “ Lucius, arise in the name of the 
Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.” Im¬ 
mediately the eyes moved, the hands and limbs were con¬ 
vulsed ; life, which had entered the heart, was sending 
the vital stream through every fibre and vein ; the next 
moment the boy sat erect before the Bishop. His coun¬ 
tenance changed from the marble tranquillity of death to 
an expression of terror and fright—he seemed to have 
been awakened from a frightful dream. Then a smile of 
j oy lit up his countenance when he found himself in the 
land of the living again, and felt the warm kiss of his 
mother. Whilst greeting his companions, and receiving 
the congratulations of wondering friends, he suddenly 
lapsed into his feelings of terror. Putting his hand to 
his brow, he used incoherent expressions of fright, and 
speaking to himself, said : “ Is it true 'l Am I dreaming 1 
Where am I Y’ Some thought he was still raving from 
the stunning effects of the fall that fractured his skull 
and took away his life, but the holy Bishop advancing 
once more to the couch on which he sat, calmly bade him 
say what he saw. The boy instantly cried out in a hasty 
and excited tone :— 

“ Hear me, 0 parents and friends ! I was taken by 
two Egyptians of frightful looks and full of anger, and 
they led me through a gloomy region to the brink of a 
dreadful pit, when there appeared a beautiful young man 


188 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM . 


with a shining countenance, who made the whole place 
tremble as if shaken by an earthquake. He cried out 
in a loud voice, * Let go the boy, for he is called by the 
servant of God, Alexander!’ and behold I have been 
brought back to my body.” Then falling on his knees 
before Alexander, he clasped his hands, and said with 
great vehemence—“ O Bishop of God ! baptize me in 
the name of thy Lord, that I may never again see what 
I saw this morning.,” A few days passed, and Lucius 
and fourteen thousand others were regenerated in the 
saving waters of Baptism. 

Bumours of the wonderful doings were brought to 
Rome. Antoninus, who was more a fanatic than a ty¬ 
rant, sent an officer named Cornelianus with a hundred 
and fifty men to seize the Bishop and bring him to Rome. 
They found Alexander preaching to an immense con¬ 
course of people. A temporary altar had been erected 
in an open plain, and he was surrounded by his faithful 
flock. Seeing the great multitude of people surrounding 
the Bishop, Cornelianus was afraid to seize him; he re¬ 
mained with his soldiers on the outskirts of the crowd 
until the Bishop had offered the Holy Sacrifice. After 
the celebration of the divine mysteries, the holy pastor 
turned to his flock and announced to them it was the will 
of God he should go to Rome to suffer for the faith and 
Church of their Divine Master. More sad or startling 
news could not have been given them ; every eye was wet 
with tears ; some cried out loud whilst the Bishop was yet 
speaking. Sublime and eloquent was the last warning 
he gave them ; he poured out all the unction of his burn¬ 
ing heart, and spake at length of the joys of heaven, and 
the glory of suffering for Jesus Christ. When he had 


ALEXANDER , BISHOP AND MARTYR. 


1S9 


given them his last blessing, he paused for a moment, 
and then changing his tone of voice, he said, slowly and 
majestically: 

“ The servants of the Emperor are already come to 
make me a prisoner of Jesus Christ: I command you to 
allow me to pass without any resistance. He who mo¬ 
lests one of those men will be an enemy of the Great 
Master, who has told us to pray for our enemies.” Point¬ 
ing to the crucifixion on the altar, he said : “ Remain you 
here in prayer before the great model of your patience 
whilst I go to my crown.” 

He then descended calmly from the altar and passed 
through his flock, who were bathed in tears. There 
were hundreds of stalwart young men in that assembly, 
who might have offered effectual opposition to Corne- 
lianus and his soldiers, but their faith and obedience to 
the Bishop tied their hands, and taught them the sub¬ 
lime morality of forbearance. A more touching scene is 
not recorded in the annals of sacred history. Grief, 
indignation, and all the passions of the soul were re¬ 
strained by the- noble power of patience. Their hearts 
were breaking to see their pastor and their father torn 
rudely from them as if he w r ere a public malefactor, or an 
infamous conspirator against the throne of the Emperor. 
The self-possession and bravery of the pastor were reflected 
in the sublime forbearance of the people. The angels of 
God must have looked down with joy on a scene that 
was the nearest thing on earth to the perfection of 
heaven. Alexander, already a martyr in his heart, as 
firm as a rock, and as zealous as an apostle, thought more 
of his widowed people than of the racks, the cauldrons of 
boiling oil, and the roaring lions he knew were awaiting 


190 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


him in Rome, and giving one last, long and loving look 
on his weeping children, he raised his eyes, now sparkling 
with tears of affection, towards heaven, and breathed 
over the prostrate crowd this short but loving prayer, 
“ 0 Lord! I leave them to thee.” 

He was accompanied to Home by one of his priests, 
named Crescentianus. He followed him through all the 
different scenes of his martyrdom, and to him we are in¬ 
debted for the beautiful Acts from which we are now 
quoting. Strange to say, Crescentianus did not say of 
what city Alexander was Bishop, nor have we any docu¬ 
ments to indicate his see. It is generally presumed that 
it was not far from Borne, but from some expressions in 
the Acts, I am inclined to think his see was on the east¬ 
ern coast of Italy. 

On reaching Rome, Alexander was immediately pre¬ 
sented to the Emperor. He was surrounded by soldiers, 
and his hands were tied behind his back. Antoninus sat 
on his throne silent and thoughtful, giving evident signs 
of uneasiness. Perhaps the recollection of past defeats 
deterred him from the risk of additional shame. Well he 
remembered the invincible spirit of the Christians, and 
the extraordinary power that made them terrible. He 
felt a supernatural awe steal over him when the Bishop 
appeared; fear calmed the fanaticism of his blind devo¬ 
tion to the worship of the gods. He quailed under the 
steady gaze of his handcuffed victim, and would have 
given half his empire to purchase his apostasy, to save 
himself from the anticipated opprobrium of another hu¬ 
miliation and defeat. His biographers, and even con¬ 
temporary writers, tell us that he was not a man of 
bloodshed or cruelty. He shuddered at the horrors of 


ALEXANDER , BISHOP AND MARTYR. 191 

the reigns of Nero and Homitian ; but he felt some in¬ 
visible power urging him on to persecute the Christians. 
Theirs was the only blood that stained his hands ; they 
were the terror of his dreams by night, the remorse of 
his conscience by day, and the mystery of his life. His 
interrogatory of the holy Bishop is a tissue of pride, hypo¬ 
crisy and cowardice. 

“ Are you Alexander,” he commenced, in a haughty 
tone, “ who is bringing ruin on the East, deceiving men, 
and persuading them to believe in a desperate man who 
was slain by his companions 1 If he were God, would he 
have suffered like a man 1 ” 

“ Yes ! He would have suffered as a man,” said Alex¬ 
ander, taking up the last part of the Emperor’s address 
as involving an attack on the great mystery of the incar¬ 
nation. “ It was for that purpose He came down from 
heaven, took on Himself human nature, that He might 
suffer for and redeem the creature He made.” 

Antoninus was silent for a moment; he vainly tried to 
fathom the great mystery contained in the words of the 
Bishop ; the brightest pagan intellect could never grasp 
the sublimity of Catholic truth; faith is alone the key 
that unlocks its treasures to the mind of fallen man. The 
Emperor was a philosopher and thought he knew a great 
deal, hut finding the Christian prisoner before him so 
familiar with things he never heard before, he endeav¬ 
oured to hide the blush that mantled his brow, and in a 
hurried and confused way resumed his address. 

“ I don’t want to have much to say to you, young man, 
but come, deny your God, and offer sacrifice to our deities, 
and I will reward you by giving you an office of honour 
in my own palace ; but if you refuse, I will put you to tho 


192 


THE MART YES OF THE COLISEUM . 


torture, and your God will not be able to take you out of 
my hands.” 

“Was it to make one worship those dumb stones you 
brought me h^re ? ” asked the holy martyr, indignantly. 

“ Then, Antoninus, if you are resolved to torture me, do 
so at once, for I will always put my trust in Him who 
reigns above; I will never burn incense to a senseless 
idol.” 

“Let this insolent man be beaten with rods,” said An¬ 
toninus, angrily; “ he does not know to whom he is 
speaking. You have insulted me, who am the ruler of 
the world ! ” 

Alexander smiled, and said, majestically : “Do not 
boast of thy power. A few days and thou wilt go where 
thou dost not wish ; thou wilt have less power than the 
worm we crush to death beneath our feet.” 

Whilst he was thus speaking, the lictors were untying 
their fasces, and picking out some of the strongest rods 
that guarded the axe. A soldier had approached to tear 
off the garments of the Bishop, when the Emperor, who 
seemed undecided and irresolute, cried out: 

“ Hold! let me see ! Take him to prison ; give him 
four days to think over his folly, that he may give up 
the worship of his vanity, and come of his own accord 
to worship our gods.” 

“ Look upon the four days as already passed,” ex¬ 
claimed the Bishop ; “ and do with me now what thcu 
intendest.” 

Alexander was led away to prison. He was patient 
and cheerful. The horrors of a Roman dungeon were 
not unknown lo him, yet there was no expression of re¬ 
luctance in his countenance, not a word escaped his lips 


ALEXANDER, BISHOP AND MARTYR. 193 

indicative of fear. He spoke freely with his guards, and 
surprised them by his indifference. He seemed to con¬ 
sider himself their guest, and chatted as freely as if they 
were accompanying him to some delicious suburban 
villa to pass a few days in retirement. When they 
reached the prison, they pushed him rudely in, and drew 
the heavy bolt across the iron door, then grinned sarcas¬ 
tically at each other as if they had caught and subdued 
the wildest lion of the African deserts. They little 
thought the power of the God of the Christians could 
pass through iron doors; they go to sleep with the 
keys of the prison door under their pillow, yet another 
hour will find their prison empty and their victim 
escaped. 

Poor Crescentianus, the faithful priest of the noble 
Bishop, followed as far as he could prudently go; but 
when lie saw him cast into a gloomy dungeon, and heard 
the door ring as it was closed and the lock grate as the 
heavy bolt was drawn into its marble socket, he was 
filled with grief, and went away from the sad scene with 
a heavy and sorrowful heart. He rambled on through 
Forum and square and crowded piazzas, unmindful of 
everything, and wrapt in silence and gloom. The noise 
of the city was irksome; he longed to find some re¬ 
tired shady spot, where he could indulge in the consola¬ 
tion of tears in solitude and silence. Thus he strolled 
on until he passed through the gates, and felt the fresh 
breeze of the Sabine hills. He threw himself down 
under the shade of a large tree, and soon fell into a 
slumber. 

Immediately a strange vision passed before him. He 
thought he saw Alexander kneeling in one corner of his 
M 


194 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


loathsome prison; beside him was an angel of light, who 
joined him in singing alternately the verses of a hymn 
then commonly in use amongst the Christians. After 
this, he saw the angel untie his bonds, and lead him 
towards the door of the prison. The heavy door flew 
open, and they went through: the guards were all asleep, 
and they passed by unnoticed. The angel led him 
through the Forum, and those streets which lead to the 
Porta Capena.* Crescentianus, still asleep, thought he 
was then passing over every inch of the ground he had 
just walked. They were engaged in the most cheerful 
conversation, and the brilliant light that shone from 
the countenance of the angel made everything around 
brighter than day. The people crossed on either side, 
but seemed not to see them. At length they passed 
under the gate, and every step brought them nearer to 
where he was. He thought he could hear them talking 
when the angel suddenly stopped, and pointed out where 
he was sleeping, and, singing Alleluia in the most ex¬ 
quisite manner, began to rise gradually towards heaven. 
Alexander was riveted to the spot, and remained for a 
few moments gazing in the direction whence the lovely 
spirit had disappeared. Crescentianus, still in his dream, 
thought he saw the holy Bishop come towards him; his 
heart begins to leap—now he is nearer—another moment 
and he sees the venerable form of the Bishop bending 
over him. Starting from his dream, Crescentianus awoke, 
sprang to his feet, and cried out, “ Alexander ! ” 

It was no dream. Alexander was really there. That 
moment they were clasped in each other’s arms. 

* The gate that led to the Appian Way. 


ALEXANDER, BISHOP AND MARTYR 195 

Alexander told the good priest how the angel came to 
him in prison, delivered him, and led him within a few 
yards of the spot on which they were standing ; and the 
priest, in tears of joy, recognised that his vision -was not 
a disappointing dream, but a consoling reality. They 
moved off together along the Appian Way, expatiating on 
the mercies of God. Alexander spoke with much fer¬ 
vour on what the angel told him; how he -was to be 
taken back again to the hands of his persecutors, and to 
suffer martyrdom for the faith; that he was liberated 
from prison for a few days in order to confound the 
pagans, and to carry spiritual relief to some poor Chris¬ 
tians dwelling in a small town in the vicinity of the city, 
who were wavering in their faith. Thus the joy and love 
of their hearts made them unconscious of the fatigues of 
the journey ; they did not stop until they arrived at the 
town pointed out by the angel. 

Next morning the governor of the prison came in fear 
and trembling to announce to the Emperor that, by some 
unknown means, the prisoner -Alexander had escaped. 
The wretched man did not know but that his own head 
would have to pay the penalty. Antoninus was more 
annoyed than surprised. The Christians were a puzzle 
to him; he dreaded them, whilst he persecuted them 
with fiendish hatred. His answer to the governor was, 
Alexander must be brought before him at the end of four 
days ; otherwise, his own head would be the atonement 
to the offended gods. The governor received the message 
with terror, yet it was a relief to his terrified soul, although 
the sword of the executioner still hung over his head ; 
he seized the hope that a few days’ respite afforded, and 
on his way back to his house, he planned his arrange- 


196 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


ments to search the city for his victim. But Alexander 
was like a city on a mountain, or a light in the most con¬ 
spicuous part of the house; the governor had no difficulty 
in hearing and discovering the abode of this great servant 
of God. 

A couple of days have passed, and Alexander and the 
holy priest Crescentianus have converted the little town 
on the Appian Way to which they were sent by the 
angel. Miracles of all kinds confirmed their preaching : 
the light of heaven was poured on the sightless eye-balls ; 
and the lame were made to bound like the deer; even 
the dead were called from more than four days’ corrup¬ 
tion, and appeared in Rome to their astonished friends, 
to tell how Alexander brought them back to life. Fame 
flew with untiring wing to every triclinium of the city— 
from the Forum to the baths, and from the baths to the 
Palatine. Immediately another troop of soldiers was sent 
to seize the Bishop ; and on the morning of the fourth 
day he was brought to Rome, secured by heavy chains, 
and surrounded by a cruel and demoniacal mob. The 
governor of the prison had saved his head, but heaven 
had gained a martyr. 

The morning Alexander was brought to Rome, it hap¬ 
pened that the Emperor and an immense concourse of 
people had assembled outside the city, in a field on the 
Claudian Road, to witness an exhibition of wild animals 
and athletic sports. The* animals had just arrived from 
the East, and were intended for the games of the Coliseum. 
Whilst the ovariums were being prepared, they were ex¬ 
hibited here, to the great amusement and delight of the 
people. 

The governor of the prison, who was trembling lest 


ALEXANDER , BISHOP AND MARTYR. 197 

some Christian magic should deprive him of his victim 
once more, rubbed his hands with glee when he saw Alex¬ 
ander in chains, and stoutly guarded by fifty armed sol¬ 
diers. He ordered the saint to be brought at once to the 
Via Claudia, whilst he followed in his chariot, feeling the 
joy of a man who had just come out of a dungeon, after 
having escaped the sentence of death. 

They marched about two miles outside the Flaminian 
gate, crossed the Milvian Bridge, and entered the field 
where the Emperor and the people had assembled—the 
same field, probably, which was in latter times the exer¬ 
cising ground for the Pontifical troops. 

In the midst of the sports a rumour passes through 
the crowd—the Emperor has been called—something has 
happened. Some say fresh animals have arrived, and 
he wishes to see them at once; others, that important 
news has come from the city, and he is returning to 
hear it. They see him moving with his suite towards 
a temporary dais erected at the end of the field, where 
he might rest and take refreshments. What is it 1 is 
asked by a thousand voices at the same moment, as 
they see a troop of soldiers approaching from the Tiber; 
in the front rank there walks a young man in the bloom 
of youth, in a strange but poor dress, and bound as a 
criminal. All eyes are bent on him. What can he 
have done % Soldiers, too ! And there goes the gover¬ 
nor of the Tullian ! Their wondering questions were 
not answered, but their curiosity was increased when 
some one said he was the Christian who had escaped from 
prison a few days ago. They all rushed round the shaded 
balcony of the Emperor, to witness the result of his ex¬ 
amination. 


198 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


Alexander was tranquil and cheerful. He was bouad 
and guarded : he knew that every eye was upon him. 
There was none of that false confidence, and apparent 
indifference to fate, which animate political prisoners, led 
through an excited and shouting mob to the tribunal of 
the state; he had closed his eyes and ears to earthly 
sounds, his heart was away at the throne of God, implor¬ 
ing strength for his coming struggle ; nobility, majesty, 
and angelic sweetness were all blended in his countenance; 
the eye that looked at him through curiosity remained 
fixed with reverential awe. Amongst the crowd, there 
followed the faithful Crescentianus—he who knows no 
fear, defies death—and the holy priest recorded for pos¬ 
terity what he saw and heard. “ Anxiously listening/* 
says the good Crescentianus, “ I heard Antoninus say— 

“‘ Well, Alexander, hast thou consented to become our 
friend 1 * 

“Alexander, after a moment’s pause, replied, * Do not 
tempt my Lord Jesus Christ; thy father the devil once 
tempted Him, and said : “ If thou be the Christ, turn 
those stones into bread;” and the Lord said: “Away! be¬ 
gone, Satan, the Lord thy God shalt thou adore, and Him 
alone shalt thou serve.” So I say to you, thou shalt not 
tempt the servant of Christ.’ ” 

At that moment, a terrible flash of lightning startled 
the crowd. A dark, heavy thunder-cloud had been pass¬ 
ing overhead, and, as if in indignation at the insult of¬ 
fered to a servant of the great God, poured down its 
torrents of rain upon the multitude. The people ran 
everywhere for shelter. Frequent and prolonged flashes 
of forked lightning lit up Monte Mario and the Saxa 
Bubra with a lurid glare, and the earth shook with the 


ALEXANDER , BISHOP AND MARTYR 


199 


most terrible thunder. Terror gave additional confusion 
to the scene; the people ran to and fro, mingling their 
shouts with the screams of the animals, whilst some 
seemed to lose their senses with fright; many were 
struck dead by the lightning, others were trampled to 
death by the crowd, as they madly rushed towards the 
city. Antoninus, who, a moment before, had been think¬ 
ing of exposing Alexander at once to the hungry animals, 
was too terrified to carry his project into execution. By 
giving orders to have the prisoner transferred to his tribu¬ 
nal in the city, he was but obeying the unseen Providence 
of God, who wished to confound still more the folly of 
idolatry, and manifest His own omnipotence and divinity. 
The assembly broke up ; and the moment Alexander left 
the tribunal, the storm ceased, the sky became beautiful 
and clear, and the bright rainbow of heaven showed, to 
the prophetic eye of the holy Bishop, the sunshine of 
peace and triumph that would soon shine on the Church 
after the storm of persecution had passed away. 

Next morning the city was in great excitement. The 
thunderstorm, which was perhaps but a natural contin¬ 
gency, was magnified into a masterpiece of witchcraft and 
skill on the part of the Christians. 

In proportion as curiosity drew them round Alexander 
in greater numbers, their fear and respect were also in¬ 
creased. Antoninus w r as confused. He was enraged by 
the anticipation of a defeat, for he knew there was some¬ 
thing extraordinary about the Christians. A private ex¬ 
amination and execution were now impossible ; for long 
before the usual time for the trial and condemnation of 
Christian criminals, the Forum was filled with an eager 
and curious crowd. There was no need of a crier on this 


200 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM . 


occasion, to call them to witness the terrible fate of the 
Christians. They poured in from every part of the city 
in immense masses; the humble servant of God was to 
be like Himself, for the resurrection of many, and for the 
greater condemnation of the hardened and unconverted. 

At length the Emperor arrived. Alexander was brought 
before him. He had still that mild but inflexible look ot 
determination which, from the first day he saw him, to 
the Emperor seemed superhuman. After he had taken 
his seat, and silence was proclaimed, Antoninus com¬ 
menced a long oration about the great Apollo and the 
invincible Jupiter. He concluded with a touching appeal 
to the human feelings of the Saint ; he offered liberty, a 
post of honour in his palace, friendship with Caesar, 
wealth, marble halls and boundless vineyards—everything 
that the pagan world coveted; but the return for all this 
—the necessary condition—was apostasy. Alas ! how 
many now-a-days are caught with the promises of the 
world, and sell their faith and eternal happiness for a few 
days of favour with Caesar ! 

But Alexander seemed too indignant to answer. He 
whispered to one of his guards near him something equi¬ 
valent to this: “ Tell the Emperor he is a fool for his 
pains.” The crowd knew nothing of what he said, but 
saw a person whispering to Antoninus in a low voice. 
His countenance became flushed with rage; he stamped 
his foot, and, calling Cornelianus, cried out, angrily, “Let 
him be put on the rack, and burn his sides with torches.” 

In those days of terror, the rack, the cauldron, and the 
axe were always athand; the torturers and theheadsmen— 
demons in human form—were always at their post when 
a Christian victim was to be tortured or executed. A 


ALEXANDER , BISHOP AND MARTYR . 


201 


few seconds after this order had been issued, a cumbrous 
machine was wheeled into the presence of the Emperor. 
Its ropes, wheels, and crossbar handles left no doubt as 
to its name and efficiency to torture the human frame. 
Another moment and the Bishop was stripped, the loops 
were passed round his hands and feet, and the rough arm 
of a lictor pushed him back on the machine. All were 
silent, and watched with breathless anxiety for the tight¬ 
ening ropes, the stretching limbs, the convulsed frame— 
but, oh, wonder ! the ropes are stretched to their utmost 
limits, and the Saint’s body seems to have stretched with 
them, yet no pain, no moans, no contortion of the placid 
looks ; a smile plays around his lips, and joy beams in 
his bright eye. Burning torches are applied to his naked 
sides, but his flesh is not consumed, he feels no pain. 
The martyr himself compared the sensation to cold water 
poured over his body and washed off with the most deli¬ 
cate sponge. After half-an-hour of fruitless efforts to dis¬ 
locate his bones, and burn his sides the Emperor had him 
taken off and once more said to him : “Now, see how 
•long the gods are waiting for thee, and thou wilt not sub¬ 
mit. Now I swear to thee by Jupiter, the only invinci¬ 
ble god, and Apollo, who possesses the world and rules 
every age, if thou wilt voluntarily sacrifice to them I 
will esteem thee as a brother and give thee immense 
riches.” 

Contrary to the expectation of all, and even of the 
Emperor himself, Alexander replied ; “ Then where are 
your gods ? let us see if they prove their divinity that 
we may sacrifice to them.” 

If the governor of a besieged city on the point of yield¬ 
ing through starvation saw the enemy retire on the prom- 


202 THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 

ise of a slight reward, he could not have felt more joy 
than Antoninus when the Christian Bishop consented, as 
he thought, to offer sacrifice to his gods. He ordered 
him to be taken immediately to the temple of Apollo ; a 
crier went before, declaring the victory of the Emperor; 
and the people, who the Acts say were about 3000, moved 
en masse to the scene of expected apostasy and perversion. 
But they were doomed to be disappointed. Let us follow 
the crowd, and see once more how great is the God of 
the Christians. 

We have already mentioned where the temple of 
Apollo is supposed to have been situated. The proces¬ 
sion moved along the Via Sacra through tho triumph¬ 
al arch of Titus, and, turning immediately to the right, 
passed along the Via Nuova—the massive pavements 
of which are still to be seen—and thus reached the 
temple of the god Apollo on the southern part of the 
Golden House. Many of the people had run thither 
immediately to secure a good place ; and when the Em¬ 
peror and the holy Bishop, still guarded by the soldiers, 
had arrived the lictors had to make passage through the 
crowd. Antoninus entered the temple first, and, in a 
studied speech, thanked Apollo for his triumph over the 
Christian. The fire, the incense, and the tripod were ready, 
and a garland of fresh flowers was put on the brow of 
the marble statue. The Emperor beckoned to Alexander 
to come forward; he advanced majestically, knelt and 
prayed. The reader knows what is going to happen— 
yes! down came the idol and part of the temple, breaking 
all before it—in a moment all was smoke, confusion and 
ruin. The murmur of the people was like the thunder 
of the fall. Alexander rose, smiled, and pointed to the 


ALEXANDER , BISHOP AND MARTYR . 201: 

dtbris of the statue and temple of the mighty Apollo, as 
much as to say, “ These are the gods you worship.” 

But as gladiators who contend with each other are 
more maddened by every defeat, so Antoninus became 
more enraged each time he was baffled by the Christian. 
He slunk away from the scene of the fallen temple as 
if every stone had a tongue to hoot him. It cost him 
little to blaspheme the god he pretended to fear ; in a fit 
of rage he determined once more to avenge himself on the 
Christian. What is the most terrible and disgraceful 
death he can inflict on Alexander 1 To be torn to 
pieces like a slave by the wild beasts in the Coliseum. 
Such is to be the case : and as the enraged Anto¬ 
ninus moved towards his marble halls, he called 
Cornelianus, told him to guard his prisoner well till the 
morrow, and then to have him devoured by hungry bears 
and lions before the whole people in the amphitheatre. 

2 . 

Once more we find ourselves in the Coliseum. More 
beautiful in its renovated splendour, it seems to have 
been built but yesterday, and to be commencing a new 
and more bloody career. The same scene presents itself 
to our view—crowded seats; the people shouting; every 
now and then a voice louder than the rest sends a sharp, 
shrill sound ringing through every bench, and re-echoing 
from the awning to the arena and back again. It meant 
“ The Christians to the lions! ” The Emperor arrives. 
Trumpets, drums and clashing of arms mingled with 
the roars of animals and men: it was the homage of 
Home to its terrestrial J upiter. 


204 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


Antoninus entered with a gloomy frown upon his 
brow. The adulations and absurd praises, vociferously 
clamoured forth by his subjects, remind him how false 
his greatness, how palpable his weakness, since he can¬ 
not conquer one man—a weak, young, unarmed captive ! 
Blind, abandoned, and already judged, he could not see 
where thousands saw ; yet historians say he had a noble 
soul! Perhaps they only meant by contrast. That soul 
was wrapped in a mist darker and denser than the cloud 
which the sun cannot penetrate. But as the impiety of 
the Jews was the instrument of the mercy of God, so the 
blindness of the Roman Emperors has been the source of 
‘everlasting glory to many. 

Alexander is led in. Venerable, though young ; beau¬ 
tiful, though austere ; joy is stamped on his features; 
confidence is seen in his gait; his whole appearance is a 
defiance of death—the bravery of independence inspired 
'by martyrdom and anticipated triumph. Hark ! the ani¬ 
mals are growling, as the apertures of their dungeons 
iare opened ; they are gr eeting some passing gleam of the 
light of heaven through the unbarred gates, or, perhaps, 
some favourite keeper whom they dare not touch. The 
wildest and best are permitted to seek the momentary 
freedom of a larger cage ; a dainty feast of human blood 
they wish to give them. 

Two bears rush into the arena, but an invisible power 
arrests their progress; they stand motionless, looking 
towards the martyr as if some wondrous light terrified 
and dazzled them. They will not move. Two more en¬ 
ter ; they join their companions, and look with awe on 
the martyr of God. But the strangest thing in the an¬ 
nals of the wonders of the Coliseum is yet to be told. 


ALEXANDER , BISHOP AND MARTYR. 205 

Alexander moves from the centre towards the throne ot 
Cassar, and, behold ! the bears follow and lick the print 
of his footsteps. “ Ubi ambulaverat famulus Dei vestigia 
pedum ejus lingebant,” says Crescentianus, an eye-wit¬ 
ness. 

Two lions were let loose, and with roars bounded 
towards him. But they likewise bowed themselves 
down before the great servant of God, and licked his 
feet. “ Cumque venissent duo leones, humiliaverunt se 
ad pedes ejus plantasque lingebant.” 

Who could describe the noise, the shouts, the yells of 
the people 1 Greater than any god must have been the 
thing called magic that could work such wonders. But 
the Christians knew it was the omnipotence of God; 
their cry of praise fell like music on the ear of Alexander; 
he rejoiced that there were even a few in the mighty 
mass of infidelity that surrounded him to join in thank¬ 
ing their common God. 

Cornelianus, who had the care of the prisoner, knew 
the pleasure he should give the Emperor by the destruc¬ 
tion of Alexander. He prudently (as he thought) antici¬ 
pated the reluctance of the beasts to touch him ; these 
dumb animals were believed to be influenced by the dark 
arts of magic. He had in readiness the furnace burning 
under an enormous pan of heated oil; and with the per¬ 
mission of the Emperor, it was wheeled into the arena. 
Louder and deeper became the murmurs of the excited 
people as they saw the burning cauldron take the place 
of the brutes, who had been coaxed away by large lumps 
of carrion flesh. But need we delay to tell of another 
triumph, another defeat, another miracle 1 Alexander 
was put into the burning mass: it was immediately extin- 


206 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


guished. Further and louder cries rang out from the 
benches ; the blasphemies of the pagans were not louder 
than the sweet “ Deo gratias” of the faithful few. 

We have remarked in former narratives, that these ex¬ 
traordinary miracles in the Coliseum were not without 
fruit. Whilst thousands were left beyond any further 
doubt, there was generally a harvest of immediate con¬ 
version. The saints in the amphitheatre were like the 
apostles, when they came out of the upper room in Jeru- 
salem; every word they spoke was an argument that 
appealed to the intelligence, and like an arrow pierced 
through the heart, the seat of the will, the affections, and 
the passions, which it led captive to the altar of eternal 
truth. When the Apostles passed away, Almighty God 
still continued the ministry in all its original splendour 
of miracles and attraction. The Flavian amphitheatre 
at Rome was, in its day, one of the spots chosen by Him 
for the continued Apostolate of His Church. How 
venerable must its majestic walls appear to the eyes of 
the student of the Church’s history ! Imperishable re¬ 
cords, telling of conversions, of wonders, of mighty words, 
and examples of the martyrs of Christ. Here the great 
Spirit of God breathed conviction and love, wheresoever 
it wished. Pagans, and persecutors, and blasphemers, 
with hearts harder than the statues of their gods, entered 
the Coliseum in the morning, to gloat over scenes of 
cruelty and bloodshed; before sunset, they were trans¬ 
ferred, like the good thief, from the midst of their infamy 
and shame, to the joys of paradise. Alexander will not 
be without a large and beautiful harvest of souls, and, 
even like his predecessors, who combated the powers of 
darkness in the arena of the Coliseum, he will have com- 


ALEXANDER , BISHOP AND MARTYR. 207 

panions in his glory. Let us continue the beautiful re¬ 
cords of the Acts. 

Antoninus, seeing his victim still unhurt and indomi¬ 
table, was carried away by his blind fury; and, without 
stopping to consider whether he could succeed or not, 
ordered Cornelianus to have him beheaded by the public 
executioner. Cornelianus commanded silence. He read 
aloud to the assembled thousands the sentence of the 
Emperor; that Alexander, the contumacious Christian, 
was to be beheaded at the twentieth milestone on the 
Via Claudia. 

He had scarcely finished the last word of the sentence, 
when there was a commotion near the Emperor’s seat; a 
\oung man was struggling in the arms of another; every 
one was silent, and all eyes turned towards the scene. 
At length he overpowered his antagonist, and rushed 
towards the Emperor. It was Herculanus, a courtier of 
the royal suite, and a particular favourite of Antoninus. 
Almost breathless, he cried out in a clear voice: 

“ Cruel and insensate tyrant! how has God blinded 
thine eyes that thou mayest not see, and hardened thy 
heart that thou mayest not understand, the greatness of 
His power ? Behold this Christian: he has come forth 
unhurt from all his trials ; no marks of the lash appear 
on his body; the rack and the burning torches had no 
power to hurt him; when torn by hooks, he did not 
breathe a word; the gods of Borne could not stand be¬ 
fore him, and their temples fell to pieces at his wish ; the 
lions crouched at his feet, and the bears licked his foot¬ 
steps ; he came out of the boiling oil more radiant than 
when he was put into it; and now that he is ordered to 
be beheaded, he goes to death with joy in his heart, and 


208 THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 

a smile on his face. Who can any longer doubt but that 
He in whom Alexander trusts is the only true God] ” 

Having uttered these last words, he leaped into the 
arena to embrace the martyr, before all the people. The 
young man had watched every triumph of the servant 
of God; each one of them was a powerful argument in 
itself, but when put together they carried conviction, 
even in spite of prejudice, irresistibly to the mind. He 
had from the commencement determined to become a 
Christian, but the scenes he witnessed in the Coliseum 
had worked up his feelings to a pitch of enthusiam which 
he could no longer control. He had communicated his 
conviction to a friend ; who, knowing the terrible conse¬ 
quences which would follow from his public profession of 
Christianity, endeavoured to hold him back: this was 
the cause of the struggle between them. 

Antoninus was thunderstruck at this sudden change in 
his friend, so that for a moment he was unable to utter 
a word. He looked on them embracing each other in 
the arena, and then, assuming an air of indifference, ad 
dressed the young man as follows:—“ How comes it 
Herculanus, that you entertain these sentiments, you who 
up to this moment held the Christians in hatred ? ” 

Herculanus answered boldly— 

“ Antoninus, I never hated the Christians. For four¬ 
teen years I have been in your service, and have accom¬ 
panied you to the temple; but I prayed secretly in my 
heart to Christ, the great God of the Christians.” 

The Emperor muttered something hastily to Cornelia- 
nus, and left the Coliseum. His orders were that both 
should be beheaded. 

They were executed at different times and different 


ALEXANDER , BISHOP AND MARTYR. 209 

• 

places. The Acts we have been quoting record the death 
of Alexander in a few short sentences. They are not 
easily understood. It would seem that Crescentianus, the 
friend and biographer of the holy Bishop, was so over¬ 
come with grief and sorrow, that he expressed' himself 
with brevity and obscurity. However, by the aid of 
the Martyrology of Ado, and the epitomized records of 
Petrus de Natalibus, we are enabled to give the reader 
some interesting details, and so bring this wondrous story 
to a close. 

Alexander was martyred on the Via Claudia, about five 
miles from the present town of Bracciano, near the beau¬ 
tiful lake of the same name. He was led out under an 
escort of soldiers to the twentieth milestone; but why he 
was taken so far, and to this particular place, may be 
deduced from the following facts :— 

At the time the events we have recorded were passing, 
the Emperor Antoninus was engaged in laying out a 
magnificent villa on the Claudian Way. The villas or 
suburban residences of the ancient Romans were superb 
adjuncts to the palaces of the nobility. For miles around 
the city, every spot that was beautiful in nature was de¬ 
corated with marble mansions and artificial gardens. On 
the gentle declivities of the Alban hills, amid the olive 
groves of the Sabine, and on the very cliffs of the Apen¬ 
nines, the lordly mansion of the Roman patrician rose in 
stupendous grandeur, overlooking a beautiful solitude, 
and forming an oasis of summer repose for the luxurious 
and wealthy citizen. Antoninus selected the green slopes 
that surrounded Lake Bracciano, and erected a villa equal 
in magnificence to that of Adrian near Tibur. The ruins 
of this villa are still to be seen near Bracciano. Arrenghi, 
N 


210 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


in his work on Subterranean Rome, in the fortieth chap¬ 
ter, has alluded to these ruins thus :—“ Quo potissimum 
loco spectatissimse quondam villse. Veri imperatoris 
vestigia ingentis quidem magnitudinis conspiciuntur.” 

It was to this spot Alexander was led out to be mar¬ 
tyred. Ado relates how a poor woman gave him a 
napkin to bind his eyes before his execution, as was the 
custom in cases of decapitation : it was brought back to 
her by an angel after the martyrdom of the holy Bishop. 

A similar fact is recorded of St. Plautilla, when St. Paul 
was going to be beheaded, and the towel or handkerchief 
was miraculously restored to her. At the moment that 
the executioner’s axe fell on the neck of Alexander, the 
earth was shaken by an earthquake; a great number of 
houses in the little town of Bracciano fell, and the villa 
and baths of the Emperor were nearly destroyed. Many 
of the inhabitants were killed in the ruins. 

The faithful Crescentianus was at hand to bury the 
body. He built a new crypt near the scene of his triumph; 
and having embalmed the venerable remains, he put on 
the slab these words, “ Hie requiescit sanctus et venera- 
bilis Martyr Alexander Episcopus cujus depositio celebra- 
tur undecimo Kal. Oct.” (“ Here rests the holy and 
venerable martyr Alexander, Bishop, whose deposition 
is celebrated the eleventh of the Kalends of October.”) 

The Acts record the wonderful conversion of Cornelia- 
nus, which we will give here in a few words. 

Seven days after the martyrdom of the saint,Cornelianus 
came to the place where he was buried, and seeing the 
word martyr on his tomb, he was filled with anger : he 
took up a heavy instrument and stretched out his arm to 
break the slab, when that moment his arm was withered, 


ALEXANDER , BISHOP AND MARTYR. 211 

and he fell insensible to the ground. He writhed and 
screamed in agony. The people gathered round him ; 
his wife and his own family, on witnessing his condition, 
broke out into loud lamentation, and terror seized on 
every one present. They spoke to him, but he made no 
answer, for he had lost his senses. He was carried to his 
villa, and every means employed to restore him but in vain j 
his malady seemed to increase. In paroxysms of pain, he 
cried out: “ O Alexander ! you are burning me; I beseech 
you to assist me.” When they heard him calling out for the 
assistance of the Christian whom he had put to death, 
they were surprised, and thought it was the effect of his 
madness. But there was a stranger looking on ; nobody 
knew who he was ; he whispered into the ear of the 
afflicted wife : “ Take him to the tomb of Alexander again 
and he will be cured.” She did so ; and no sooner did 
they put his withered arm against the tomb of the Saint, 
than it was restored, and Cornelianus came to himself 
again. 

“ On the foil owing day,” say the Acts, “ he sent for Po- 
tliasius and his daughter, and related to them all that hap¬ 
pened to the martyr, and what he had suffered on his 
account, and Pothasius wrote the words dictated by him.” 
This document was preserved in the imperial archives. 
The priest Crescentianus says he saw it, and made some 
additions to it from what he saw. After the death of the 
Emperor Antoninus, which happened soon after the mar¬ 
tyrdom of Alexander, Cornelianus gave the Christians a 
large piece of ground round the tomb of the Saint. His 
body was removed by Crescentianus to the seventh mile¬ 
stone on the same Claudian Way, and here there imme¬ 
diately sprang up a church and cemetery. All traces of 


212 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


these have long since passed away, for some of the most 
terrible of the persecutions of the Christians have yet to 
come ; and in the storms that afterwards blew over the 
Church, the sanctuary and altar were swept away ; but 
the faith was preached and flourished in the secret 
recesses of the Catacombs. 



CHAPTER XI. 

THE SENATORS. 

1 . 

S HE Senate was the grandest institution of pagan 
Rome. Outside the hierarchy of the Catholic Church, 
there never was an assembly more powerful, more 
united, more lasting. It has passed through the wars, 
the storms and vicissitudes of twenty-five centuries, and 
still exists. Springing from obscurity, it moved insensi¬ 
bly into power, until it ruled the world. It rose amid a 
band of fugitives, truant slaves, and highwaymen—was 
founded by Romulus about 750 B.C. It consisted first 
of a hundred of the oldest and most respectable men of the 
little colony of exiles and slaves that settled down among 
the Seven Hills ; hence its name of Senate, or assembly 
of old men or fathers. It was increased to two hundred 
when the rape of the Sabines brought a union between 
the two tribes. Under Tarquin the number was raised 
to three hundred, and under the Emperors, it reached as 
high as a thousand. All power was placed in their hands. 
The chief magistrate, although he bore the title of king, 
was but the commander of the army, and presided over 
the religion of the state. The Senate declared war or 


214 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM 


peace, and treated with the ambassadors of other nations. 
They wore a different kind of dress from the ordinary 
people; they had a special place appointed for them in 
the Coliseum and in all public functions ; they were for¬ 
bidden to traffic or intermarry with the persons of base 
extraction. Amongst the prohibited were actresses, and 
their daughters and grand-daughters. An ancient writer 
gives a detailed idea of the powers reserved to the Senate. 
In the days of its glory it was the sole source and centre 
of the power and greatness of Rome. “ Nothing,” says 
Polybius, “ coidd go in or out of the treasury without its 
consent; it was the highest administration of the state. 
It judged the differences which arose between the cities 
and provinces that submitted to the Empire ; it corrected 
or defended them when necessary. It enrolled the army 
and supplied their pay ; it sent its consuls to the battle¬ 
field, and recalled them at will, or sent other generals to 
replace them; it declared the triumph and measured 
the glory of the conqueror; no public monument could 
be raised to the memory of the great without its con¬ 
sent. It was in fine the grand court of appeal for the 
nations of the earth—the sole representative of the Ro¬ 
man people.” 

If we add to their unlimited legal power the ascend¬ 
ancy that the senators of Rome must have naturally 
gained from their wealth, their personal merit, their pa¬ 
triotism, and their union, we can easily understand how 
they influenced the destinies of so many nations. 

When we read the annals of this great institution, we 
are struck with the gravity of its debates, and the bold¬ 
ness and independence of its acts, ever mingled and di¬ 
rected by prudence and foresight. No authority was re- 


THE SENA TORS. 


215 


cognised among them but reason ; instead of party spirit, 
jealousy, and partiality, one grand and noble feeling pre¬ 
sided o-ver their assembly, and guided their actions—it 
was the public good. This was the secret of their triumph 
and their power. 

2 . 

The early history of the Senate is wrapt up in the 
history of Rome itself, and is inseparable from it. But, 
as the events we are about to relate took place in that 
era of Rome in which the Coliseum flourished, we must 
glance at its character at that time during those days of 
persecution. 

After the political convulsions that shook the Empire, 
drove Cicero in exile, and placed Caesar at the head of 
affairs, the Senate received a blow from which it never 
recovered. The form of the Roman government was 
completely changed; the people, who had conquered the 
patricians, yielded up all their rights to their chief, and 
the whole power of the Empire became concentrated in 
one man. Caesar assumed the title of Dictator and Em¬ 
peror, and therewith the rights of the Supreme Pontiff, 
the authority of the censors, and of the praetorship. 
Thus he controlled the treasury—had the right of declar¬ 
ing peace or w r ar—the disposition of the provinces, and 
the election of the magistrates. His ambition was fatal 
to the pow r er of the Senate, and although it continued 
its meetings, and sustained the splendour of its former 
prestige, yet it was nothing more than a political 
assembly, a grand council of the state, that enjoyed 
only as much power as its ambitions chief consented to 
give. 


216 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM 


It is not, however, to be supposed that the Senators 
submitted to these changes without a murmur. A spirit 
of envy and indignation showed itself in their public and 
private actions ; and the first Emperor was too sharp- 
sighted not to see a terrible revenge flashing from a hun¬ 
dred poniards in the very halls of the Senate. A policy 
of conciliation only retarded the fatal blow. He knew 
their power even in the very memories of the past; and 
although he had triumphed over them as the idol of a 
mob, yet he could not afford to trample on the patricians 
and lose their support. 

His policy was to neutralise the opposition of the in¬ 
heritors of the old patrician power, by adding to their 
number from his own most devoted followers, and he 
immediately raised the Senate to nine hundred; he 
increased in proportion the number of magistrates, and 
filled some of the most important offices with his own 
adherents. It was by this means that men from the pro¬ 
vinces of Etruria and Lucania, and Venetians, Insubrians, 
and others, barbarian and illiterate, Avere poured in to 
deteriorate and corrupt the great patriarchal institution 
of the Empress City. This roused more than ever the 
indignation of the aristocratic party, and even the great 
Cicero murmured, and his powerful pen accelerated the 
ruin that Avas coming. Suetonius tells us, that nothing 
could be heard but verses and songs ridiculing the new 
senators; galling insinuations, that they were a con¬ 
quered race of barbarians, and that Caesar had made 
them change their skins for the laticlave. On the Pas- 
quin of that time (most probably the same old disfigured 
statue that stands at one of the angles of the Braschi 
Palace) were put up notices to this effect: “ Let no one 
show the strangers the way to the Forum.” 


THE SENATORS. 


217 


The indignation of the old patricians went on increas¬ 
ing. Though robbed and humbled, they were resolute 
and determined. Their discontent at last burst out into 
passion and fury, and, led on by the impetuous Brutus, 
they resolved on Caesar’s death. He fell. His bleeding 
body was still lying at the base of Pompey’s statue in 
the Forum, whilst the forty wretches who had assassin¬ 
ated him rushed through the streets with their daggers 
in their hands, still reeking with the blood of the Dic¬ 
tator, and crying out: “ Death to all tyrants.” Yet their 
triumph was but temporary. That venerable body did 
not recover its power and prestige by violence and blood¬ 
shed ; they will not recover it now ; the decrees of Pro¬ 
vidence are against it; it may exist, but will never again 
rule the world. 

The revolution of the Ides of March, as it is called, 
robbed the world of its greatest man. Brutus boasted 
of having slain a tyrant, but the provinces wept over 
Caesar’s death. The cry of grief and public mourning 
that rose through the whole Empire was the condemna,- 
tion of the murderers. It was evident to all that the 
jealousy and ambition of a body of factious citizens 
caused the death of Caesar, not the true love of liberty, 
nor zeal for the welfare of the state. “ They called them¬ 
selves slayers of a tyrant,” says Dion Cassius, a senator 
himself, who lived about a century afterwards, “ but they 
were nothing more than assassins and murderers ” (No. 
xliv. i). 

Caesar was beloved in the provinces. Its magistrates, 
the army, and even the greater part of the Senate, lamented 
his fall. The outer world cared nothing about the supre¬ 
macy of the Senate. What advantage did they reap from 


218 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


the politics or agitations of the Roman Forum As long 
as they enjoyed liberty, prosperity and justice from their 
acknowledged chief, why should they espouse the cause 
of the Senate ? Moreover, the assembly itself had fallen 
from its pristine integrity. Its effeminacy, its partiality, 
and departure from the rigour and patriotism of its ancient 
institution, drew on it contempt rather than submission 
and admiration. Long before the monarchy of Csesar, 
the great Cicero spoke these remarkable words, indicating 
its moral as well as political degeneration :—“ It is on 
account of our vices, and not from any stroke of fortune, 
that, although we preserve the name of a republic, we 
have long since lost the reality.”—“ Nostris, non casu 
aliquo, rempublicam verbo retinemus, reipsa vero jam 
pridem amisimus .”—De Repub. v. i. 

The blood of Csesar was shed in vain ; the anarchical 
faction of the Senate never held the reins of govern¬ 
ment ; the poniards that slew him commenced for the 
Senate the most terrible and disastrous period of its 
career. In the civil wars and convulsions that followed, 
they not only lost the last vestige of their former power, 
but became the victims of the caprice or revenge of 
the ambitious aspirants to the supreme power of the 
Empire. 

Augustus assumed the sceptre of Csesar. His reorgani¬ 
sation of the Senate w T as one of the most splendid, be¬ 
cause most difficult, feats of his successful reign. By his 
influence he caused nearly two hundred of its members, 
who were not fitted by birth or talent for their high posi¬ 
tion and honours, to resign their places. He calmed their 
suspicions, and concealed his ambition by assuming the 
humble title of Prince of the Senate. Nevertheless, during 


THE SENATORS . 


219 


the time that was occupied in this work of reformation, 
he never appeared amongst them without having near 
him nine or ten of his most faithful adherents, who were 
secretly armed, and he himself carried his dagger under 
his toga. He prudently feared their resentment. Eleven 
years afterwards, in the year 18 before Christ, he com¬ 
pleted the organisation, and reduced their number to six 
hundred; and thus commenced the imperial Senate. 

It is unnecessary to follow the noble institution in its 
after career of servility and degradation during the reign 
of the succeeding Emperors. 

After the abdication of Diocletian, and the triumph of 
Constantine, the Senate struggled on in its hereditary 
existence. Its name was torn from the Capitol and the 
military standards : in its place was substituted the more 
formidable and imperishable sign of redemption. The 
statue and altar of Victory, which presided as a tutelary 
deity over its assemblies, were removed under Constance, 
brought back under the apostate Julian, and finally de¬ 
stroyed by their own unanimous consent. There were 
still many among them who clung to the old rites of 
paganism ; but, ever docile to the command of the Em¬ 
perors, under Theodosius the worship of the gods of the 
Capitol was proscribed, and Christianity declared to be 
the religion of the Senate and Roman people. “ It was 
then,” says the sublime Prudens, “ that we saw those 
venerable fathers, those most brilliant lights of the world, 
the noble cou ncil of Catos, cast off the insignia of the old 
priesthood, and humbly clotlie themselves in the white 
robe of catechumens.” 

“ Exultare patres videas, pulcherrima imindi 
Lumina, conciliumque senum gestire Catonum, 


*20 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM . 


Candidiore toga niveum pietatis amictum 
Sum ere, et exuvias deponere pontificates.” 

Whilst, however, the power and independence of the 
Senate had passed away, it must not be forgotten that 
it was still the highest and most influential body in the 
Empire. Its members were the nobles of the land, and 
possessed immense wealth. According to Dion Cassius, 
a senator’s fortune amounted to a million sesterces ; and 
if we believe Suetonius, some of them had annually a 
return equal to two million sesterces, about £105,000, 
which should be multiplied by ten to arrive at even a 
proximate idea of the value of money at that time. In 
a city of at least 3,000,000 of people, they were the prin¬ 
cipal and leading members. The usurpers of the imperial 
throne persecuted them, because they knew and feared 
their power. Moreover, when historians make sweeping 
assertions respecting the immorality and effeminacy of 
the great assembly, there must have been amongst them 
brilliant exceptions. History itself records names of 
honour and worth which flourished in the Senate in its 
very worst days ; many of these were Christians, and even 
martyrs, who shed their blood in the Coliseum in defence 
of the faith. 

3. 

Our next martyrdom will be a scene from the horrors 
of the reign of the Emperor Commodus. A more worth¬ 
less tyrant could not have sat on the imperial throne. His 
insane ambition urged him to the assumption of divine 
honours. Not content with this, he had a throne erected 
in the midst of the Senate, and clothing himself in a 
lion’s skin, and carrying a great club in his hand, he com- 


THE SENATORS. 


221 


manded the senators to offer sacrifice to him as if he were 
Hercules, the son of Jupiter. He issued a decree sum¬ 
moning a general assembly of the Senate in the Temple 
of the Earth. A crier was sent to all the neighbouring 
towns and villages to publish the decree, and all were to 
attend under pain of death. The people even in Rome 
itself were not aware of the cause of this extraordinary 
assembly of the Senate. They imagined that some ter¬ 
rible calamity was threatening the Empire, that a formi¬ 
dable revolution had broken out, and that the tide of war 
had rolled up to the very gates of the imperial city. The 
senators believing their counsel and advice were required 
for the public good, hastened in from their suburban re¬ 
treats, and although in the middle of the summer heats, 
left their villas and farms and families, and poured in hun¬ 
dreds along the dusty Via Tiburtina and the sepulchral 
Appian and Latin Ways. 

From the time of Augustus, the ordinary proceedings 
of the Senate commenced by sacrificing to Jupiter or 
Victory, whose statue was placed in their halls. Hence, 
as Baronius says (anno 192), no senator could remain a 
member of the body after he had become a Christian ; he 
was obliged to renounce the title or withdraw himself by 
voluntary exile. 

The monstrous absurdities of Com modus, and the zeal 
of the Christians, led many of the pagans to the fold of 
the Church. We find in the Acts of Eusebius and his 
companions, that they went through the streets appealing 
to the ridicule and shame of the people. The sublime doc¬ 
trines and morality of Christianity were at all times more 
beautiful and more powerful than the ridiculous and un¬ 
meaning worship of paganism. When the command was 


222 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


sent forth for them to worship a wretch like Commodus 
many opened their eyes to the folly of their idolatry, 
yielded to the cfll of grace, and became Christians. 
Amongst these were some of the senators. Apollonius 
and Julius appear on the list of the undaunted men who 
dared to deny the divinity of the Emperor. The sword 
was the only thunder the revengeful god*could command 
and he used it to show his weakness. Apollonius suffered 
about three years before Julius. His martyrdom did not 
take place in the Coliseum, but we will translate an 
interesting paragraph about him from the Fifth Book of 
Eusebius, as quoted by Baronius under the year 189. 
After speaking of the peace which the Church enjoyed 
before this time, he adds :— 

“ But this peace was not pleasing to the devil; he 
endeavoured to disturb us by many stratagems ; and he 
succeeded in bringing to judgment and trial Apollonius, 
a man most celebrated amongst the faithful for his studies 
of polite literature and philosophy. One of his servants, 
a depraved wretch, was induced to betray him (for which 
he suffered severely). When the martyr, most dear to 
God, was asked by the judge to give his fellow fathers of 
the Senate a reason for embracing Christianity, he read 
for them a long and learned apology for the faith of 
Christ; but they pronounced sentence against him, and 
he lost his life by a stroke of the axe ; for there was an 
old law amongst them that any Senator that was accused 
of being a Christian,* and would not change his profession, 
was no longer free. ,, 

The morning of the grand assembly of the Senate had 
arrived. The city was alive with excitement. The ve¬ 
nerable leaders of the community were full of hope that a 


THE SENA TORS. 


223 


better time was coming, that they were about to be 
restored to their ancient rights. It was the first time in 
this reign that they had been solemnly called together, 
and these meetings had become exceedingly rare. Each 
senator, attired in his best laticlave, brought his children 
with him to the temple of the goddess of the Earth, 
which stood under the shadow of the lofty arches of the 
amphitheatre. Along the Via Sacra, and around the 
triumphal arch of Titus, little knots of white-bearded 
senators were discussing the probable cause that induced 
the Emperor to reinstate the Senate. Some said it was 
fear, because of the death of Perrenius, their chief, and 
the warning the gods had given him, made him anxious 
to conciliate the Senate by restoring them to their power 
in the Empire. 11 1 was present,” said an aged citizen, to 
some of his friends, who had just come from Tiburtium, 
“ when in the midst of the entertainments of the theatre 
a stranger suddenly entered. He was dressed as a philo¬ 
sopher, with the staff of a pilgrim in his hand, and a bag 
flung over his shoulder. Approaching the throne of the 
Emperor, and commanding silence with his hand, 1 This 
is not the time, Commodus,’ spoke the stranger, 4 to in¬ 
dulge in theatrical shows and vain delights ; for the 
sword of Perrenius hangs over thy head, and if thou dost 
not take care, thou art already lost ; for he has bribed 
thy enemies, and corrupted the army in Illyria. Tremble 
for danger is at thy door ! , The Emperor trembled in¬ 
deed,” continued the aged senator; 44 and to appease him, 
we all cried out, * Death to Perrenius !’ He was slain; but 
the Emperor has never been the same since that day. 
He has become more cruel, more suspicious and unbear¬ 
able ; and I greatly suspect he has some deep plot in 


224 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


calling us together here to-day. I come with my trusty 
dagger ! ” Saying this, he drew a beautifully gilt poniard 
from under the folds of his toga, and showed it to his 
companion as one of the treasures left him by his grand- 
sires. 

The speaker was the same who drew his dagger some 
time afterwards under one of the arches of the Coliseum : 
and brandishing it in the face of Commodus, exclaimed, 
“ Behold what the Senate has prepared for you ! ” 

Another said he thought it was because the terrible 
plague, that had broken out in Etruria and Cisalpine 
Gaul, was fast extending towards the city, and bearing 
desolation in its path. He had heard that the Supreme 
Pontiff of the Capitol had suggested sacrifices to the an¬ 
gry Jove; he thought that, perhaps, the Senate might 
have been assembled for that purpose. 

“ Not at all,” interrupted a tall, thin senator, who was 
dressed as a military commander, who seemed a man of 
great importance, and spoke with a sarcastic smile, “ not 
at all ; he thinks more of the harlots of his baths and 
lupanars than of his suffering subjects. It is money he 
wants. I heard from his comptroller that he hasn’t an 
obolus to pay Charon for his ferry over the Styx. Sacrifice! 
why, it will be only to offer sacrifice to himself, as the 
god Hercules and the son of Jupiter.” They all laughed 
as if he had made a good joke ; but a young man near 
him, who was silent and thoughtful during the conversa¬ 
tion, felt a thrill of horror pass through him as Vitellius, 
the commander of the foot, spoke. He concealed his 
indignation, and they all moved together towards the 
temple of the planetary goddess. 

A strange scene once took place in a lunatic asylum in 


THE SENATORS . 


225 


England. A madman told all his companions, who were 
not so mad as himself, that he was God. Being a very- 
violent character, he kept them all in fear, and they con¬ 
sented to call him God. One day, when there happened 
to be an insufficient number of attendants in the room, 
this madman got up on a chair and commanded all the 
other madmen to come and adore him. Whether through 
fear or frolic, they actually gathered around him and pre¬ 
tended to adore him. Some kissed the ground, others his 
feet; one said he was the Archangel Michael, and brought 
the homage of all the other angels; another said he was 
king of the earth, and brought the acknowledgment of 
all creatures. Thus the strange farce was going on, when 
other attendants came in, and removed the deluded man 
■to the dismal solitude of seclusion. 

This is almost precisely a picture of the terrible scene 
that was witnessed in Rome in the year of our Lord 192 ; 
not amongst madmen, but amongst the most educated, 
the most wealthy and most powerful members of the 
great Empire. The Temple of the Earth was dressed 
out with evergreens and flowers ; around the walls were 
rude pictures representing the fabulous deeds of Hercules; 
an immense fire of faggots of costly wood blazed in the 
centre of the temple ; the priests were standing by in 
fantastic robes of yellow and gold, and the high Pontiff 
held a golden tripod in his right hand ; all was ready for 
sacrifice. But who was the god that had usurped the 
throne of the bountiful planet 1 It was the living Hercules 
clothed in a lion’s skin, and holding a massive club in his 
hand ; it was Commodus. 

The senators entered one by one. They were imme¬ 
diately struck with fear and amazement. Some were 
o 


226 


THE MART YUS OF THE COLISEUM. 


seized with laughter, as if the whole thing were a joke, 
for which they afterwards paid dearly; others turned 
pale with consternation, for armed lictors were scattered 
through the temple, and the severe looks of the tyrant 
trying to assume the majesty of a real Hercules cast a 
funereal gloom over the proceedings. His diminutive 
figure, his bloated and ill-formed features, above all, his 
shameful and disgraceful life, made a sorry contrast with 
the splendid and gigantic hero called Hercules in the 
fables of mythology. 

The proud wretch addressed the conscript fathers ; he 
declared that he had called them together for the purpose 
of announcing that henceforward he was to be worshipped 
as the son of Jupiter. No historian has left us an 
account of the words he used—who could chronicle such 
nonsense and impiety 1 But the Senate, the weak, fallen 
Senate, went through the blasphemous farce of incense 
and adulation as to a god. Scenes like these frequently 
occurred in the great Babylon of pagan Borne, and 
show to what a depth man had descended in the dark¬ 
ness of idolatry and infidelity. 

Strange as it may appear, Christianity had a long 
and terrible struggle with the powers of hell. Eighteen 
centuries have rolled over, and it is still on the battle¬ 
field—by trials, tribulations, and sufferings of every 
stamp it is slowly but surely pushing on its standard 
of the cross. Its complete triumph is to be commemor¬ 
ated, after the last day, in heaven. But in the second 
century of the Church, from which we record these 
events, the hatred of Christianity was so intense that, 
notwithstanding the force of reason that sustained it, 
and the incontestable miracles confirming its divinity, 


THE SENATORS. 


227 


the degraded and cowardly Senate preferred rather to 
worship the proud and lascivious Commodus, than to ex¬ 
pose themselves to danger. Alas ! this was true of the 
Senate, but there was one exception. This was Julius. 
Over seven hundred aged menlent themselves to the silly 
mockery—Julius alone had the courage to express his 
contempt, and to refuse to bend his knee. 

When it was announced to the Emperor that Julius 
would not come forward to offer incense to his divinity, 
Commodus commanded him to be brought before him 
by the lictors. All eyes were turned on the senator as 
he walked up between the lictors to the tribune of the 
temple, where the Emperor’s throne was placed. The 
buzz of conversation ceased, and those who had been 
secretly casting ridicule and contempt on their* de¬ 
mented ruler turned in eager silence to watch the fate of 
Julius. 

“ How have you become so mad,” asked Commodus, 
“ as not to sacrifice to Jupiter and his son Hercules V* 
(We quote from the Acts given by the Bollandists.) 

Julius seemed for a moment too indignant to answer, 
but looking with brave contempt on the proud tryant, 
said : “ You will perish like them, because you lie like 
them.” 

This was enough. The tyrant called Vitellius, the 
commander of the foot, and bade him take the insolent 
senator from his sight, exclaiming, angrily : “ Confiscate 
his goods even to the last farthing, and scourge him until 
he sacrifice to our divinity.” 

The judgments of God are different from those of men. 
If our merciful and loving Father were capable of the 
passion of anger, and punished at the moment every ill- 


223 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


suit offered to His Divine Majesty, the human race would 
have been long ago extinct. Commodus could not have 
employed a more cruel or worthless wretch to discharge 
his orders than Yitellius. He had Julius led away in 
chains and cast into prison, most probably the Mamer- 
tine, to await his pleasure. 

After some days of confinement—deprived of food 
and every external comfort—he was brought before 
Yitellius in the same temple. Julius was ordered to be 
brought in, naked and covered with chains. When he 
had come before the seat of the judge, and under the 
statue that the impious Commodus had erected, Yitellius 
said to the martyr of Christ: “ Do you still persist in 
your folly 1 Will you not now obey the orders of the 
Emperor, and sacrifice to the gods Jupiter and his son 
Hercules 1 ” 

“Never!” answered Julius; “you and your prince 
will perish alike.” 

“ And who will save you, and make us perish ? ” asked 
Yitellius, sarcastically. 

“ Jesus Christ,” said Julius, raising his finger solemnly 
towards heaven; adding, after a moment’s pause, “ He 
who condemns thee and thy foolish sovereign to eternal 
ruin.” 

Vitellius ordered him to be taken out to the Petra 
Scelerata and scpurged ; but the body of the holy martyr 
was exhausted through want, and whilst the brutal exe¬ 
cutioners were beating him with their heavy whips, he 
expired. The wretched judge endeavoured to vent on 
his lifeless remains the anger and revenge that the pre¬ 
mature death of his victim had left unsatiated; he 
ordered the body of Julius to be cast before the statue of 


THE SENA TORS. 


229 


the sun, and almost un ler the arches of the Coliseum, 
that the dogs might devour him, and that the people 
who poured into the amphitheatre might see his infamy. 
What could the poor people expect, when such terrible 
judgment was wreaked on the very senators themselves] 
G uards were set to watch the body, that no one might 
remove it, and a notice was put up on the walls of the 
Coliseum that he had been put to death for not sacrific¬ 
ing to the divinity of the great god who had just come 
amongst them. Angels watched over those precious re¬ 
lics ; no insult was offered; the people trembled, and 
passed on. Thousands pitied the fate of the brave man 
who had had the courage to withstand the absurdities of the 
impious and cruel Emperor ; greater contempt and greater 
hatred for the tyrant-god who thus gloried in the blood of 
human victims was the result produced by the cruelty of 
Vitellius. The following nigh t, when the guards were 
asleep, Eusebius and his companions stole out from the 
arches of the Coliseum, and took away the remains of the 
holy martyr, and buried them in the catacombs or ceme¬ 
tery of Calepodius on the Via Aurelia. The greater por¬ 
tion of his body is at present in the Church of St. Igna¬ 
tius in Eome. 



CHAPTER XII. 

ST. MARINUS. 

f ^URTHER on in the history of Rome, we have 
another extraordinary case of a little boy, the son 
of a senator, exposed to the wild beasts in the 
Coliseum. Neither age, nor condition, nor sex were 
safeguards against cruelty and tyranny. It is nowa¬ 
days the amusement and the wonder of the hippodromes, 
of London and Paris to see little boys performing extra¬ 
ordinary feats of agility and skill, springing and tum¬ 
bling as if their bodies were made of india-rubber, seem¬ 
ing to baffle the laws of gravity, and to fly in the air. 
Shouts of applause greet the young gymnast as he retires 
with a graceful bow. The Coliseum too has had its 
youthful prodigies. Not indeed that they were trained 
to amuse the Roman people with surprising feats on 
tight-ropes, or throwing summersaults in the air, 
but were cast into the arena to be devoured by wild 
beasts, and thus caused the amusement of the unfeeling 
mob. Their courage, their skill and success were of a 
higher order than physical dexterity ; their reward was 
not the miserable wages of an employer, nor the shouts 
of an admiring audience; but heaven, eternal life, and 
God. Let us cull one of these touching scenes from the 
history of the Coliseum. 



ST. MARIN US. 


231 


A strange accident had placed the brothers Carinus and 
Numerianus at the head of affairs. In the year 283, their 
father, Carus, set out on an expedition against the Persians. 
He was a rude, rough soldier, and was successful in arms. 
Civil war had weakened the restless East, and Carus 
penetrated easily to the very heart of the enemies’ terri¬ 
tory. Having conquered Seleucia, and taken possession 
of Ctesiphon, he encamped near t he river Tigris. Strange 
to say, there was an order from the oracles that the 
Roman arms were not to pass so far as this in the Persian 
territory. We will not stay to examine the origin of this 
superstition ; but the fact was, the very first day of their 
encampment, they nearly all perished in a terrible storm. 
A sudden night darkened the heavens, and the lightning 
fell in the middle of the camp, killing many, and setting 
everything in flames. Amongst the victims of this terri¬ 
ble storm was the Emperor Carus. Amidst the confusion 
of the darkness and the noise of. the thunder, his tent 
was seen to blaze up with an immense flame, and the 
soldiers ran to and fro, crying out: “ The Emperor is 
dead.” His two sons, Carinus and Numerianus, were 
declared Emperors. The first remained in charge of the 
West, the other took the control of the East. 

Carinus had a short, but cruel and bloody reign. He 
was not what his name expresses; for history brands 
him with brutality and ignorance. Not that he adopted 
a uniform system of persecution, but rather used the 
sword against the Christians under the impulses of caprice 
and fashion. He had friends amongst them, and perhaps 
rather tolerated the cruelties of his tyrannical officials, 
than inflicted them himself; yet he was an angel of mercy 
compared to the demon that followed him in the terrible 


232 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


war against the Crucified. The event that rid the world 
of the Emperor Carinus gave the reins of government to 
Diocletian, the worst and most brutal persecutor of the 
Church. Under Numerianus and Carinus, innumerable 
martyrs were sent to heaven. Amongst them was the 
brave boy Marinus—one of the saints of the Coliseum. 

Marinus was a child of about ten years of age. It was 
discovered that he was a Christian; he was seized, brought 
before Martianus, the prefect, scourged, and cast into 
prison. 

In short, rapid sentences like these, the Acts give us 
the preliminary notice of our young martyr. But they 
speak volumes. What must have been the training of 
that child ! What must have been the spotless innocence 
of his untainted soul! Fancy wafts us across the lapse 
of centuries, and we imagine we are standing in the mar¬ 
ble Forum of the mighty city. A crowd approaches, and 
some rough, rude soldiers are leading a beautiful boy to 
the court of the prefect. Heavy chains weigh down his 
little hands, and the large gold band round his purple 
laticlave tells of his being the son of a senator. What 
crime has he committed ? Could one so ycung and 
beautiful be a murderer and an assassin ? But the mur¬ 
mur passes through the ever-increasing crowd—he is a 
Christian. Enter the hall where the prefect has his tri¬ 
bunal (probably the Temple of the Earth); you hear no 
idle remonstrance from the youthful prisoner—no childish 
fear—no imploring sobs ; but brave and undaunted the 
little fellow stands erect before the tyrant. Whence that 
eloquence—that profound depth of learning and thought 
—the angelic sounds of his voice 1 Behold the super¬ 
natural aid promised to those dragged before princes and 


ST. MARIN US. 


233 


tyrants—behold “ wisdom perfected in the mouths of the 
innocent.” 

The judge is confounded—silenced by a boy. He vents 
his impotent rage, and orders Marinus to be flogged. The 
rough, cruel lictors tear off his little dress, and soon his 
snow-white and unwrinkled shoulders are red and blue 
from the galling lash. No heart-rending cries, scarcely 
a movement, save the convulsive shock which each sting¬ 
ing blow sends through his delicate frame. “ Will you 
sacrifice ? ” rings through the hall at intervals; the an¬ 
swer is a low, sweet murmur of the sacred name of Jesus. 
Baffled and enraged, the tyrant ordered him to be cast 
into prison, to prepare some infernal machines of torture 
to shake the constancy of the heavenly child. 

Poor Marinus ! In pain and suffering he passed the 
night in the darksome prison, no one to dress his wounds, 
not even a drop of water to cool his feverish tongue. He 
was accustomed to a beautiful room and a bed of down ; 
now lie lays his aching bones on the cold, damp stones. 
Does he think of mother and playmates 1 Do boyish 
fancies summon up the phantoms of fright 1 Do pain 
and fear make him doubt of God ? No. Angels are 
around him ; his heart is light and cheerful, his interior 
joy absorbs the sensibilities of the flesh, and makes him 
forget the pain. The morning sun dawns, its meridian 
will have witnessed a greater defeat for the powers of 
darkness—a greater triumph for the senator’s boy. 

The judge has once more taken his seat, and Marinus 
is brought before him. The rack, the fire, and instru¬ 
ments of torture are prepared. Our little martyr sees- 
them all, he knows they are prepared for him, but he is 
neither frightened nor dismayed. Though young in years, 


234 


T1IE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


he is old in the sublime lessons of the Gospel; he is 
prepared to die for Christ. Finding he is still immovable 
in his resolve, the wicked judge orders him to be stretched 
on the rack. But behold, Almighty God will not permit 
His chaste and innocent servant to be dislocated or torn 
by the brutality of the pagan. No sooner have the ex¬ 
ecutioners stretched his little body on the dreadful rack, 
and are about to turn the wheels to tighten the ropes, 
than the machine is struck by the lightning of heaven— 
broken up into a thousand fragments, and thelictors and 
bystanders felled to the ground ; whilst Marinus stands 
unbound and unhurt in the midst of the fragments, point¬ 
ing with one finger towards the wreck of the instrument 
of torture, and with the other towards Him who is the 
shield and strength of the oppressed. 

The miracle, instead of terrifying and converting the 
impious Martianus, made him more anxious to take the 
boy’s life ; but once more he will be foiled in his cruelty. 
He had Marinus cast into a large cauldron, under which 
he had placed an enormous fire. But Marinus thought 
he lay on a bed of roses, and the intense heat that made 
the iron red-hot was to him a zephyr of odoriferous dew. 
The tyrant, seeing it availed nothing, had him thrown 
into an oven and gave orders that he should be kept in it 
under a red heat until the following day. But Almighty 
God protected and consoled little Marinus ; and the next 
morning, when they opened the oven, expecting to see 
him burnt to a cinder, they found him with his littlo 
hands folded in the attitude of prayer, and singing hymns 
of praise to God. When this was reported to the im¬ 
pious Martianus, he stamped his feet with rage, and com¬ 
manded that he should be thrown to the wild beast? in 


ST. MARIN US. 


235 


the Coliseum, that the hungry lions might rid him of the 
troublesome child. But once more the power of God 
will be displayed in the weak and innocent victim, and 
He who reigns above will laugh at the machinations of 
His enemies. 

The scene in the Coliseum was extraordinary. A lion 
was let out first. It ran immediately towards the 
trembling child ; but lying down before him, it seemed 
to reverence Marinus; then rising up, it placed its great 
paws on the little fellow’s shoulders and began to lick his 
face. A leopard was let out, and it lay at his feet and 
began to lick them; then a female leopard and a tiger 
were let loose; but they all vied with each other in 
showing their respect. The people shouted; and the 
keepers tried to irritate them, but had to fly from the 
arena, for the animals threatened to turn on them. 
Occasionally the lion and tiger would go over to that 
portion of the Coliseum where the wretched Martianus 
was sitting, and looking towards him, would growl 
angrily, and then hurry back to the centre to lavish their 
caresses on the Christian child. Marinus spoke to them, 
and patted them as he was wont to treat the pet animals 
in his father’s house. The Coliseum rang with mingled 
shouts of “Libertas,” “Maleficium,” “Mors,” “Ut quid 
plus ?” &c., and similar expressions familiar to the 
crowds of the amphitheatre. The prefect, confused and 
defeated, scarcely knew what to do. Whilst the uproar 
was increasing among the populace, he ordered the lictors 
to remove the martyr, but they refused to enter the arena 
whilst the animals were free—even the keepers knew 
they would be torn to pieces if they interfered with the 
extraordinary child. At length signs were made to 


236 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM . 


Marinus to come out, and the noble child led the animals 
to their den; and no sooner were the heavy gates closed 
on them, than the lictors rushed on.the helpless boy, and 
putting heavy chains on his little hands, led him away as 
if he were an infamous criminal. 

But our tale of wonder, of triumph, and of cruelty, is 
not yet finished. Other miracles must render still more 
celebrated the name of this infant Tl^aumaturgus. All 
Borne must witness him once more, as a proof of the 
divinity of the Christian religion. After his miraculous 
preservation in the Coliseum, the public mind was filled 
with interest about his future fate. Martianus feared 
lest the sympathy of the people might rouse their indig' 
nation against himself, and he hastened to convince them 
of the justice of his cruelty to Marinus. lie ordered 
him to be led immediately to the statue of Serapis, for 
the purpose of offering sacrifice. Thousands had already 
poured out of the Coliseum, and were rushing up to get 
a nearer view of the little hero, and join the immense 
crowd that was moving towards the statue of the pagan 
god, whose idol was raised in the vicinity of the amphi¬ 
theatre. 

An immense concourse had already taken up every 
available spot around the statue of the idol; all were 
filled with anxiety to see Avhat would be the end of the 
senator’s son. His beautiful and comely features, his 
youth, his modesty, and his rank, had excited universal 
admiration. Some Christians were in the crowd, and 
they almost wept aloud for joy at the constancy and 
triumph of the little martyr. Arrived at the statue of 
Serapis, Marinus was led into the middle of the circle 
which the troops had made amongst the people. A 


ST. MATIN CIS. 


237 


large pan of charcoal was burning at the foot of the 
statue, and the high priest of the Capitol stood near, 
holding the tripod in one hand and a box of incense in 
the other. Silence was commanded by a crier, and Mar- 
tianus, in a coarse, loud voice, commanded the boy to 
offer sacrifice. 

Behold ! Marinus is kneeling. Has he consented to 
pray to the senseless idol % Is he afraid of further trials ? 
or has the grace of God abandoned him ? A breathless 
stillness reigns around ; the tyrant prefect believes he 
has at length subdued the proud spirit of the Christian 
child. Foolish thought; Marinus was praying to the 
true God; his prayer had already pierced the clouds of 
heaven—its answer was the bolt of lightning that struck 
the idol of Serapis; the people saw their god broken to 
pieces at the feet of a child. Some ran away terrified, 
others were riveted to the ground in wonder, whilst 
others cried out : “ Great is the God of the Christians ! ” 
Many were brought to the light of the faith on that day, 
for God maketh use of the weak things of this world to 
confound the strong. 

Martianus had the martyr removed to prison. Almighty 
God heard the child’s prayer to deliver him from the 
hands of his enemies, and prepared for him an everlast¬ 
ing crown. The prefect tried once more to take the 
little fellow’s life, and ordered him to be beheaded ; this 
time he succeeded, and on the 26th of December, 284 of 
Christ, the pure soul of the brave Marinus took its flight 
to the realms of bliss. The wretched prefect ordered 
his body to be cast amongst the slaves, criminals and 
gladiators who had been slain in the Coliseum. But the 
Christians were on the alert, and came to take it away 


233 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


by night. Finding guards had been set to watch, they 
prayed; and God, who has a special providence over 
the relics of His saints, came to their assistance. He 
sent a terrible storm of. thunder and lightning, and so 
frightened the pagan guards that they fled from the 
Coliseum, and the Christians quietly removed the precious 
remains of the young martyr to the Catacombs. 

These relics have found their way back again, after 
the lapse of sixteen centuries, almost to the same spot 
from which they were taken by the Christians. On the 
ruins of the superb temple of Venus and Rome, designed 
and raised by the extravagant Adrian, there sprung up 
in the middle ages a beautiful little church, dedicated 
to the Blessed Virgin. It is now better known as the 
church of St. Frances of Rome. This church is but a 
few yards from the Coliseum, and consequently quite 
near the site of the spoliarium where the bodies that were 
slain in the Coliseum were kept before burial. In this 
little church are now preserved the remains of Marinus, 
the Christian child-martyr.* 

* For the., facts connected with the martyrdom of St. Marinus, 
sec Horn. Martyrology, Dec. 26; Ferrari, Cat. Sanct., same day; 
Mombritium, tom. ii. ; Petrus de Cat., lib. i. cap. 6, &c. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

ST. MARTINA. 

f tjpHEREis nothing more delicate, more defenceless, 
^ or more beautiful, than the young girl whose virtue 
has never been sullied by the corrupt influence of 
the world. The peerless soul of the virgin is the bright- 
est spot on earth, and the most pleasing to God. He 
has frequently, in the histo ry of the world, chosen the 
weak and humble frame of girlhood for the most extra¬ 
ordinary manifestations of H is power or of His goodness. 
He has sent, from time to time, beings who seemed to 
be angels clothed in human form, to attract us by the 
loveliness of virtue, and to show us the great mystery of 
love in which He unites Himself to the human soul. 
God has ever been wonderful in His saints—H e gave 
them His power when they asked it, and those extraor¬ 
dinary suspensions of the laws of nature which we call 
miracles were ordinary actions to them. But there was 
nothing so consoling as the power, the consolation and 
protection He imparted to the defenceless daughters of 
the Church in the terrible times of persecution. When 
dragged before tyrants for their faith and their virtue, 
He Himself took them as it were into His own hands, 
and made them not only triumph over the brutal rage of 



240 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM , 


the pagan, but made them apostles and witnesses of the 
divinity of Christianity, the example, the glory, the crown 
of His Church. Their virginal chastity was more dear to 
Him than the stars of heaven, and He invariably smote 
with the lightning of vengeance the wretch that would 
dare to cast an unchaste look on those angels in human 
form. Although He permitted them to fall under the 
axe of the lictor, it was that their death might be the 
triumph of their chastity and their faith, and the com¬ 
mencement of their ineffable reward in the paradise of 
God. Neither persecutions, nor sufferings, nor torments 
of the most dreadful kind, nor yet the more powerful 
blandishments of the attractive but false joys of life, 
could ever induce the Christian female of the first cen¬ 
turies to yield up her right to the sublimest, titles that 
heaven has given to earth—Christian and Virgin. The 
triumph of the youthful martyrs was the most perfect 
and absolute that history knows ; but could it be other¬ 
wise 1 1t was the triumph of Him who reigns in the high¬ 
est heavens, who laughs at the malice of His enemies, and 
against whom nations rage in vain. 

But whilst we look back in admiration at the thrilling 
and sublime lessons of heroism and virtue given to us by 
the Christian heroes of the early ages, a secret feeling of 
regret steals over us that these days of triumph are gone. 
The seductions, the blandishments, the immoralities of 
our days of peace and repose have been more destructive 
than the fire, or sword, or wild beasts of the pagans. It 
is rare to find now-a-days a true virgin—one who would 
suffer death rather than permit the slightest breath of 
corruption to sully the brilliancy of the gem of chastity. 
Alas! what the rack, the scourge, or brutal violence 


ST. MARTINA, 


241 


could not touch in the days of the past, may now be 
blasted by a look, a squeeze of the hand, or a playful 
liberty; the corrupt influence of the worldly, and very 
often even irreligious, education permitted by the care¬ 
less and indifferent parents of these times, has swept 
away the safeguards of modesty, and our children have 
lost their treasure ere they have known to prize it. But 
woe to the wretch who allows himself to become the in¬ 
strument of Satan for the destruction of innocence ! He 
will sink into the awful torments of hell, deeper than the 
impious Ulpian, who plotted the ruin and shed the blood 
of the Virgin Martina. Let us come to her interesting 
history. 

Although Martina suffered under Alexander Severus, 
he was not guilty of her blood. Severus was but a boy of 
thirteen when he came to the throne, but he had a mother 
who has been extolled by both pagan and Christian 
historians as the honour and glory of the Empire. 
Giulia Mamea was one of the few remarkable women 
that figure in the history of these times ; she enjoyed the 
friendship of Origen, and it was the wisdom and know¬ 
ledge of this great master, aided by her natural virtue 
and talent, that rendered the reign of Alexander Severus 
one of the most popular and prosperous the Romans 
had seen for more than a hundred years. There is every 
reason to believe that she had embraced Christianity 
before she was murdered, together with her son, by the 
infamous Maximinian. The virtues of this young Em¬ 
peror formed a contrast with the vices of his predeces¬ 
sors. He was attached to the Christians, and had an 
image of Jesus Christ among the penates or gods of his 
own palace. It is recorded that he even intended to 
p 


242 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


erect a temple to Him, and have Him recognised by the 
Senate as one of the gods of Rome. But he was dis¬ 
suaded from his purpose by one of his courtiers. What 
Sejanus was in the reign of Tiberius, this unworthy 
favourite was to the Emperor Severus; he bore, more¬ 
over, the name of a tyrant, whose cruelty and impiety he 
seemed to imitate; this was Domitian Ulpian. The 
clemency of the mother and her son, and the fear of 
losing the imperial favour, made him restrain his hatred 
of the unoffending Christians; yet he endeavoured to 
vilify and misrepresent them, and even compiled a book 
of all the laws and condemnations issued by former 
Emperors against them ; and sending a copy to each of 
the governors of the provinces, directed them to enforce 
these law r s of the Empire, promising to hold them harm¬ 
less for so doing. As he was the highest in esteem and 
learning, he was appointed prefect during the absence 
of Giulia JMamea and her son, and he availed himself of 
his brief reign of power to vent his rage against the 
Christians. Some of the noblest and wealthiest virgins 
of the Empire were the first Victims of his rage. The 
young, the beautiful and virtuous Martina was one of 
these victims. 

Martina was the only child of one of the consuls of the 
Empire. She lost her parents in her infancy, and in¬ 
herited an immense fortune. Sentiments of virtue and 
piety had been instilled into her young mind by her 
Christian parents, so that she had learned almost in in¬ 
fancy the sublime lessons of the Christian school. Know¬ 
ing the danger of riches, and wishing to give herself en¬ 
tirely to God, one of her first acts was to distribute her 
wealth to the poor. Her fortune and position were well 


ST. MARTINA. 


243 


know to Ulpian, but as soon as the fame of her extraordi¬ 
nary charity reached his ears, he suspected her to be a 
Christian. The sublime self-denial and charity taught 
by the law of Christ was considered foolishness by the 
pagans, and, as our Blessed Lord had intended, His dis¬ 
ciples were known by their charity. Ulpian had for some 
time cast an evil eye on the orphan virgin, and finding all 
his designs on her wealth and virtue thwarted and re¬ 
jected with indignation by Martina, his guilty passion 
turned into rage and cruelty, and he ordered her to be 
brought to the temple to offer sacrifice to the gods, so 
that in case of a refusal, she might fall completely under 
his power. 

Two lictors were sent from the imperial palace to seize 
the Christian virgin, and bring her before the prefect. 
She refused to offer sacrifice to the idols of Rome. Ul¬ 
pian determined, in the foolish pride of his heart, to 
conquer the resolution of the young girl, and he ordered 
the lictors to scourge her until she should consent to offer 
sacrifice to the gods. Her delicate and tender flesh was 
torn with whips loaded with iron. ButUod was pleased 
to favour His spouse with consolations which rendered 
her insensible to the excruciating tortures of her body. 
Finding she would not yield, he ordered her to be sus¬ 
pended from the yoke, and her flesh to be torn with iron 
hooks and other instruments of torture. Several hours 
were spent in vain by the brutal executioners to shake 
the resolution of the tender virgin, and when they had 
given up their fruitless task, they left the delicate frame 
of their victim torn, bleeding, and exhausted. The hour 
of triumph had come for Martina, and that of retribution 
for her executioners. Not that her prayers had called 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


li 4 

down tlie lightning of heaven to smite the inhuman 
wretches that scourged her, but, in the midst of her suf¬ 
ferings, she poured forth the prayer of Christian charity 
for the conversion of her executioners. 

She was led once more by the orders of Ulpian to the 
temples of Diana and Apollo to offer sacrifice, when, be¬ 
hold, a fire descends from heaven and consumes them 
to ashes, the very statues of these false deities melt at 
the secret wish of Martina. The same power that de¬ 
stroyed the idols sent a ray of light into the hearts of her 
executioners ; they immediately recognised the great and 
true God, and declared themselves Christians; they suf¬ 
fered a glorious martyrdom in the very presence of Mar¬ 
tina, who was reserved for greater triumphs. The tyrant 
prefect, who was hardened by vice and blinded by passion, 
sought only how he could inflict new torments on the 
Christian virgin ; and knowing her tender flesh was torn 
by the scourges, and was still fresh and bleeding, he or¬ 
dered boiling oil and pitch to be poured over her laeerated 
body; but he might as well have tried to remove the 
seven hills of Rome as make Martina change her faith. 
That which the tyrant intended as a fresh punishment 
became a source of her greater glory and triumph. They 
saw her surrounded with a halo of glory, a delicious 
odour issued from her wounds, and at times she was 
raised from the ground in an ecstasy of heavenly joy. 

When all these things were reported to Ulpian he was 
filled with confusion and rage, and he determined to have 
her devoured by the wild beasts in the amphitheatre, and 
before the entire populace of Rome. This he imagined 
was the most degrading death he could select for her; 
because she was a noble lady of the first blood of the 


ST. MARTINA. 


245 


Empire r and none but slaves and criminals of the worst 
kind were subjected to this ignominious fate; but God 
intended it to show His power in His humble servant. 

Martina spent the night in the gloomy prison of the 
Mamertine. She enjoyed the consolations of divine love 
in her soul, and angels were sent to keep her company. 
It was near midday on the 10th of February of the year 
228 when the noble virgin was taken from the prison to 
the amphitheatre. Every bench is full, the last loud 
burst of applause has died away through the palaces and 
seven hills of the city ; the combat between the gladiators 
is over, and the “ editor ” of the games announces, in 
the midst of breathless silence, that the next amusement 
will consist in exposing to the wild beasts a Christian 
maiden who has refused to sacrifice to the gods of the 
Empire. A terrible burst of applause shakes the walls 
of the mighty edifice; some poor Christians were pre¬ 
sent in disguise ; they had heard that their beloved bene¬ 
factress had fallen into the hands of the tyrant, and was 
condemned to the beasts. They bend their heads in 
silent prayer that God would strengthen His servant, and 
they wipe away the warm tear that is stealing down the 
cheek. 

The order is given, and the soldiers lead Martina into 
the arena. She is a young girl, probably of thirteen or 
fourteen years of age ; her arms are crossed on her breast, 
and a blush of modesty has crimsoned her cheek, as she 
knows the rude crowd are gazing on her. The white sand 
of the arena scarcely yields to her delicate tread ; she steps 
over a pool of fresh blood—the life-stream of the last gladi¬ 
ator that has fallen; a shudder passes through her frame, 
but a short prayer for strength has calmed her throbbing 


246 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


heart. Her hair is long and beautiful, but untressed ; she is 
cheerful, and walks with an air of fortitude and confi¬ 
dence. The word flies through the assembled thousands 
that she is the daughter of a consul, and the interest and 
delight of the brutal populace increase in proportion as 
they recognise her nobility and beauty. 

But there bounds a captive lion into the arena. He 
looks around in surprise, the human element is too near 
him ; with the thunder of his mighty roar, with which he 
has often wakened up his native forests, he laments his 
captivity, for he sees he is still a prisoner. His eyes are 
darting fire with hunger, rage and disappointment. Sud¬ 
denly he sees a figure in his own domain—’tis Martina 
kneeling and wrapt in prayer. Hunger recalls his native 
ferocity, and, with bristling mane, he prepares for a des¬ 
perate bound towards her. A death-like stillness reigns 
around; every head is stretched forward, every eye fixed 
on the arena; an involuntary shudder passes through 
every frame, for they fancy each moment the lion is de¬ 
vouring his victim. 

But lo ! what do they see 1 The king of the forest is 
gambolling around the little girl; he licks her feet ;* she 
strokes him on the head and mane; he lies down beside 
her like a lapdog caressed by its mistress. There was a 
great and unseen Spectator looking at Martina in the 
Coliseum; it was He who closed the mouth of the lions 
when Daniel was cast into their den. 

Another lion was let loose, and it acted in the same 
manner. Martina called on the pagans to recognise the 

* Et cursum arripiens ambulavit ad Sanctam et inclinans se oscu- 
labatur pedes ejus.— Acts, Bollandists, 6:c. 


ST. MARTINA. 


247 


power of the God of the Christians, and thousands of the 
people left the Coliseum that morning proclaiming the 
sanctity of the noble virgin, whilst others determined to 
abandon immediately the worship of the false gods. Not 
so Ulpian. He writhed with disappointment and passion 
at his public defeat; he attributed her preservation to 
witchcraft, and ordered the virgin to be burned alive. 
But the flames had no power to touch her; not even a 
shred of her garment was burnt. Yet it was the will of 
Almighty God that Martina .should receive the crown of 
Martyrdom, and when He had sufficiently proved to the 
wicked and cruel people of Rome their inability to con¬ 
tend against Him, He heard the prayer of His spouse to 
take her to Himself. Her martyrdom was effected thus. 

There was at a short distance from the Coliseum an 
edifice which served as an auxiliary in its religious char¬ 
acter. The amphitheatre may be regarded in some res¬ 
pect as a great temple. It was dedicated to Jupiter, and 
Bacchus, and Apollo ; the very games and spectacles 
were frequently celebrated in honour of some of the gods. 
A smaller temple, which stood about two hundred yards 
from the amphitheatre itself, served for the ordinary 
rites and sacrifices. This temple was dedicated to the 
goddess of the Earth. Antiquarians say it stood where 
we now see the remnants of a tower of the middle ages 
designated “ Torre dei Conti,” between the Piazza delle 
Carette and the Via Alessandria. This spot, now neg¬ 
lected and almost unknown, has some sacred memories 
hovering around it that must render it dear to the Chris¬ 
tian pilgrim to the Eternal City. Here many martyrs 
won their imperishable crown. This temple is said to 
have served from time to time for the assemblies of the 


248 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


Senate, and for the tribunal chair of a praetor; being 
in the very heart of the ancient city, and near the Coli¬ 
seum, it was the spot to which the Christians were most 
frequently taken to offer sacrifice. Before this temple 
was a monument which witnessed the cruellest and 
bloodiest scenes of those terrible times. Its very name 
of Accursed or Criminal Stone (Petra Scelerata) tells of 
the horror in which it was held by the people themselves. 
It was a sort of elevated stage, on which there was an 
immense slab of marble where public malefactors and 
criminals were generally executed. It is unnecessary to 
remind our reader that in the days of persecution the 
Christians were put on a par with the lowest class of 
criminals; and here some of the noblest blood of the 
early Church was shed in testimony of our faith. Here 
were martyred the Popes Sixtus and Cornelius, and the 
Persian martyrs Abdon and Sennen. The senator Julius 
was dragged here naked and in chains, and was flogged 
until death relea ed his spirit from the prison of flesh; 
his body was left exposed to the public gaze for 
several days. From this spot a whole host of Christian 
martyrs were sent to heaven ; not the least remarkable 
was Martina. 

Having been condemned by Ulpian to be beheaded, 
she was taken here to be executed. A herald first 
mounted the Petra Scelerata, as was the custom, and an¬ 
nounced to the people that Martina was condemned be¬ 
cause she was a Christian. The moment the fatal stroke 
had fallen on her neck, a voice was heard calling her to 
everlasting joy, and the whole city was shaken by an 
earthquake, so that many temples were ruined, and great 
numbers of the people were converted. 


ST. MARTINA . 


249 


When the storm of persecution had passed over, and 
the labarum of Constantine was planted with universal 
joy on the Capitol, the sacred memories and traditions 
of the Christians found expression in all the pomp of ex¬ 
ternal worship. They had watched in silent and jealous 
care the spots where the martyrs had shed their blood, 
and the moment liberty was proclaimed on the bronze 
plates on the walls of the Capitol, they flocked in hun¬ 
dreds to these sacred places ; ana in a short time superb 
edifices sprang up to commemorate the triumph of the 
martyred heroes. Nearly all the great churches of Rome 
have some sacred reminiscences around their foundations 
that lead us back to the scenes of the first three centuries. 
St. Peter’s, the noblest and most complete building ever 
raised by man, has been erected on the spot where the 
great apostle was martyred, or, as some say more correctly, 
the crypt where his body was preserved. There are 
records of a sanctuary and pilgrimages, and even martyr¬ 
doms, from the first century around this sacred shrine, 
that modern devotion has enriched with all the magnifi¬ 
cence that wealth and art can produce. Amongst the 
Saints whose memory the ancient Christians of Rome 
loved and venerated with a special devotion, there were 
three virgins who bore an extraordinary similarity to 
each other in age, condition, sufferings and miracles. They 
were Prisca, Martina and Agnes. They were all of con¬ 
sular or noble families. They were persecuted for tho 
faith at the tender age of thirteen ; each of them suffered 
attacks on their chastity as well as their faith, and 
Almighty God made them the instruments of the most 
stupendous miracles, the defeat and confusion of their per¬ 
secutors, and the conversion of innumerable souls. Three 


250 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM . 


beautiful churches, which now form the three points of a 
triangle, sprang up over the places where they were mar¬ 
tyred, or their relics were preserved; through the long 
lapse of seventeen centuries, and the ever-swelling tide 
of war and destruction that has since then rolled around 
the fallen yet everlasting city, the records, the relics and 
the imperishable devotion of the people have been pre¬ 
served ; they have passed from generation to generation, 
and are to this very day the honour and the pride of 
faithful Christian Rome. 

Almost in the heart of the ancient Forum there was 
erected a beautiful little church, and dedicated to tho 
virgin Martina. When after the lapse of nearly ten 
centuries, the walls of this little church were tottering 
through decay, the devotion and memory of the Saint 
were as fresh and strong as in the days that saw the erec¬ 
tion of this monument of piety. It was rebuilt in the 
thirteenth, and again in the sixteenth century, when the 
relics of the saint, together with those of three other mar¬ 
tyrs, were found. The subterranean chapel of this little 
church is a gem of architectural beauty ; it was the de¬ 
sign and gift of the celebrated artist Pietro da Cortona. 
Here we have often knelt at the shrine of the young, 
beautiful and virtuous Martina, and prayed that, through 
her intercession, there might be reflected in our actions 
that sublime virtue that shone so brilliantly in her life. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

THE PERSIAN KINGS. 

S HE Coliseum has been steeped even with the blood 
of kings. Slaves, soldiers, generals, noble vir¬ 
gins, senators, bishops and kings, all have sancti¬ 
fied its arena with their miracles or their blood. But 
by what strange combination of circumstances was it 
that the life-stream of crowned heads should deepen 
the crimson dye of that terrible spot ? Were they pa¬ 
gans and tyrants who were dragged here by ruthless and 
revengeful mobs and pierced by a thousand daggers or 
torn to pieces by men maddened like lions, in retribu¬ 
tion of their cruelty and crimes 1 No; it is not so ; we 
are still in the days of the terrible persecutions of the 
early Church, and the subjects of the present chapter are 
Christian martyrs, who suffered for the faith in the Coli¬ 
seum in the first half of the third century. Before re¬ 
lating the circumstances of their martyrdom, it may be 
useful to make a few historical remarks, taken from the 
annals of those times. 

The power of the Empire is sinking fast. The mighty 
wave of time is rolling sensibly over the city of gold and 
marble, and the great dynasty that was thought to be im¬ 
perishable is showing signs of decay. Almighty God 



252 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM . 


has passed sentence on the impious city, and in the most 
dreadful of all His judgments, He allows its blinded in¬ 
habitants not only to accelerate, but also to increase its 
terrible retribution. The picture of crime, of cruelty, and 
of bloodshed which represents the last half century pre¬ 
ceding the triumph of Constantine, is the darkest and 
most thrilling, not only in the history of Rome, but of 
the world itself. At the time we are now writing of (a. 
D. 240), the whole empire was shaken by internal con 
vulsions and civil wars. In the brief space of three years, 
four Emperors, after sitting for a short time in anxiety 
and misery on the throne of the Caesars, were dragged 
by violence from their ill-gotten power, and closed their 
short-lived career of ambition and crime by a terrible 
and well-merited death. But all this internal trouble 
and confusion naturally impeded the progress of Christi¬ 
anity, Almighty God was pleased to give His apostles 
and servants an opportunity of scattering the holy seeds 
of the gospel; and that they might take firm root in the 
souls of men, He sent a few years of sunshine and calm. 
To use a homely simile, the little bark of Peter, tossed 
about by so many tempests and adverse winds, was 
brought into port to prepare its rigging and sails for 
another and more terrible storm; billows of blood will 
flow around her before long. Not only did the protect¬ 
ing providence of God give peace and calm to the Empire, 
but it placed a Christian Emperor on the throne of the 
Caesars. We do not allude to Constantine, nor to the Em¬ 
perors who reigned after the final triumph of the Church ; 
we are still seventy years before the dawn of that bright 
period, and there are five of the most cruel and blood¬ 
thirsty persecutions the Church ever suffered yet before 


THE PERSIAN KINGS. 


253 


her ; but we allude to the Emperor Philip, who succeeded 
Gordianus III. He was not only favourable and gener¬ 
ous towards the Christians, but was himself a Christian. 

When the Emperor Gordianus III. ascended the 
throne, he was but a young man, under the guidance of 
his preceptor, Misithes. He had a prosperous reign of 
six years. His docility, natural probity, and amiable 
disposition, united with the skill and prudence of his 
virtuous preceptor, made him dear to the whole Empire. 
Even the success and triumph which fortune had given 
to his military enterprises, made his reign a real sun¬ 
shine in those days of revolt and trouble. In the year 
243, whilst away on an expedition against the Goths, 
and the ever restless and unsubdued Persians, his good 
preceptor died, and Julius Philippus succeeded Misithes 
in the prsetorsliip, one of the most important offices in 
the state. Ambition entered the heart of Philip, and he 
determined to obtain the command of the Empire. He 
knew Gordian was too much beloved by the soldiers 
to make them betray him, and he resolved upon his 
assassination. For this purpose he hired a wretch, and 
the bloody deed was effected. Philip was declared 
Emperor in 244. On Easter Eve in the same year, 
Philip was in Antioch with his wife, Severa, and they 
repaired to the Catholic church to join in the public 
prayers in preparation for the great festival. The holy 
Bishop Babilas was at this time in the see of Antioch; 
and having heard that the Emperor was coming to the 
church, he stood at the porch, and refused him admission. 
With the courage and zeal of an apostle, he bade the 
Emperor go and do penance, for the blood of his 
murdered victim called to heaven for vengeance. The 


254 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


holy Bishop repulsed him with his own hand, and would 
not permit him to enter except in the garb of a public 
penitent of the Church. Philip humbled himself before 
the aged Bishop; he confessed his crimes, and volun¬ 
tarily accepted the penance which the minister of God 
imposed on him, and thus was permitted to enter the 
Church of the true God, before whom the crown and 
tattered garment are alike. Eusebius, in his sixth book 
and thirty-fourth chapter, speaking of this strange event, 
says:—“ Gordian ruled the Roman Empire for six full 
years; Philip, together with his son Philip, succeeded 
to him. He, being a Christian (the report is), wished 
to take part in the prayers of the Church on the eve of 
the Pasch with the rest of the people; but the Bishop 
who then ruled the Church would not allow him to enter 
until he had made confession of his crimes, and placed 
himself amongst the public penitents. . . And the 

Emperor is said cheerfully to have submitted; and by 
his penance to have shown a sincere and religious fear of 
God.” 

We cannot pass over the authority, much less the 
beautiful and powerful eloquence, of the great Chry¬ 
sostom, in his panegyric on Babilas. Speaking of his 
brave and intrepid reproof of the sinful Emperor, he 
compares him to the Apostle St. John ; and alludes to the 
Emperor in words that leave no doubt of the tradition 
of the time in which he flourished. “Nor was he the 
mere tetrarch of a few cities,” says St. Crysostom, speaking 
of Philip (in Lib. in S. Bab. et Contra Gentiles, No. 6), 
“ nor the king of one nation only, but the ruler of the 
greater portion of the world—of nations, of cities, and 
a countless army, formidable on every side, from the 


THE PERSIAN KINGS. 


255 


boundless immensity of the empire and the severity of 
its power; yet he was expelled from the church by the 
intrepid pastor, like a bad sheep that is driven from the 
flock. The subject becomes the ruler, and pronounces 
sentence of condemnation against him who commanded 
all. Alone and unarmed, his undaunted soul was filled 
with apostolic confidence. "With what zeal was the 
ancient Bishop fired! He commanded the satellites of 
the Emperor to depart. How fearlessly he spoke, and 
placed his right hand on that breast that was still glowing 
and bleeding with the remorse of recent guilt! How 
he treated the murderer according to his merits ! ” &c. 

It is not our intention at present to discuss the 
question that has been raised by modern historians, 
whether Philip was a Christian or not. Nearly all the 
histories of the ancient Church written in the English 
language, slur over the fact as if too extraordinary to be 
true, or too doubtful to be entertained for a moment. 
Yet the whole weight of ancient authority is in its favour. 
Men like Eusebius, St. John Chrysostom, Orosius, St. 
Vincent of Lerius, and Cassiodorus, were not likely to be 
the dupes of an idle tradition ; the fact is mentioned by 
numerous authors. Amongst others, Baronius writes as 
follows:— 

“ Pontius was raised to the prefectship, and was the 
friend and familiar of the Philips, the Emperors. On 
occasion of the celebration of the thousandth anniversary 
of the foundation of the city, they said to him: ‘ Let us 
go and propitiate the great gods who have brought us 
to this thousandth anniversary of the Roman city.’ But 
Pontius by many stratagems endeavoured to escape, 
whilst they were forcing him as a friend to offer sacrifice. 


256 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


Believing an opportunity was given to him by God, he 
said : ‘ Most devout Emperors ! Since God has honoured 
you with an august power over men, why do you not 
sacrifice to Him who has conferred such a favour upon 
you 1 ?’ Philip the Emperor replied: ‘That is precisely 
the reason why I wish to offer sacrifice to the great god 
Jupiter; because all my power is given to me by him.’ 
Pontius, smiling, said: ‘ Be not deceived, 0 Emperor; 
there is an omnipotent God in the heavens, who built up 
everything by His holy Word, and gave life by His 
Spirit! * Moved by these and similar exhortations of the 
Saint, the Emperors believed and were baptized by Pope 
St. Fabian. Then Fabian and Pontius broke to pieces 
the idols in the temple of Jupiter, and razed the temple 
itself to the ground; many of the people, being converted 
to the Lord, were purified by the saving waters.” (See 
Baronius, A.D. 246, No. 9; and the Bollandists, 14th of 
May, &c.) 

Whether he was a Christian or not, it is certain the 
Church enjoyed a profound peace. For nearly thirty 
years she had been gathering strength, as the persecu¬ 
tions from the time of Severus were only partial, and 
fell more on individuals than on the great bulk of the 
people. 

On every side schools and great centres of learning 
sprang up, and the Church seemed to be lifting up her 
head with honour and triumph. The East was specially 
gifted with men who shone like stars of science and elo¬ 
quence. Some of the greatest names in the history of the 
Church flourished in this period. The great Pope Fabian 
was in the chair of St. Peter’s; there was Babilas in Anti¬ 
och, Dionysius of Alexandria, the eloquent Cyprian at 


THE PERSIAN KINGS. 


257 


Carthage, the Thaumaturgus, or wonder-working Gregory 
of Neo-Csesarea, and St. Firmilian of Cappadocia. Then 
there were Origen, Pionius, and many others, who 
adorned the different grades of the hierarchy with learn¬ 
ing and zeal. 

Churches sprang up in every place, and assemblies 
were held in public; the principal emoluments of the 
Empire were conferred on Christians. St. Gregory of 
Nyssa, speaking of St. Gregory Thaumaturgus, says that, 
‘‘By the preaching and zeal of that great Bishop, not 
only his city, but the whole country round, had embraced 
the true faith; the altars and temples of the false gods 
were hurled to the ground, and there churches erected, 
and the people were purified from the contamination of 
unclean sacrifices.” (In Oratione de St. Greg. Thaum., 
towards the end.) 

Thus the faith had spread far through the East; 
Cappadocia, Pannonia, and Syria were nearly entirely 
Catholic ; and Persia, on the confines of those territories, 
was also bearing fruit to the preaching of the Apostle St. 
Thomas, and was at this time, like its sister provinces 
around, a most flourishing portion of the garden of 
the Church. Kings and nobles had embraced the faith, 
and when the persecution broke out, Persia sent many 
noble martyrs to heaven. Among these, the virtues and 
constancy of the two kings or petty rulers who form 
the subject of this notice were not the least remarkable. 
They were seized in the persecution of 250, brought to 
Rome, and martyred in the Coliseum. 

The hour of sunshine and peace is now drawing to a 
close, and the year 250 opened, even on its first day, 
with one of the most terrible persecutions that the 


Q 


258 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


Church had suffered. The blessings and repose of 
peace had relaxed the morals of the Christians, and it 
pleased Almighty God to purify them once more by the 
fire of persecution. The great Bishop of Carthage, who 
was secreted in exile during the few months that the 
storm raged, describes the sad causes that drew once 
more the terrible sword over the Christian community. 
“ Almighty God,” says the great doctor, “ wished to 
prove His family ; for the blessings of a long peace had 
corrupted the divine discipline given to us; our sleeping 
and prostrate faith roused, if I may so speak, the celestial 
anger. And although we deserved more for our sins, 
yet the clement and merciful Lord so acted that what has 
passed has been more a probation than a persecution. The 
whole world was wrapt in temporal interests, and Christ¬ 
ians forgot the glorious things that were done in the days 
of the apostles ; instead of rivalling their brilliant exam¬ 
ple, they burned with the desire of the empty riches of 
the world, and strained every nerve to increase their 
wealth. Piety and religion were banished from the lives 
of the priests, and fidelity and integrity were no longer 
found in the ministers of the altar ; charity and discipline 
of morals Were no longer visible in their flocks. The 
men combed their beards, and the women painted their 
faces; their very eyes were tinted, and their hair told a 
lie. To deceive the simple, they used fraud and subtlety, 
and even Christians deceived each other by knavery and 
underhand dealing. They intermarried with unbelievers 
and prostituted the members of Jesus Christ to pagans. 
They scoffed at their prelates in their pride, and they 
tore each other to pieces with envenomed tongues, and 
seemed to destroy each other with a fatal hatred. They 


THE PERSIAN KINGS. 


259 


despised the simplicity and humility demanded by faith, 
and permitted themselves to be guided by the impulses 
of worthless vanity ; they contemned the world only in 
words. Did we not deserve, then, the dreadful horrors 
of persecution that have burst upon us % ” 

The instrument of God’s anger was Decius. He per¬ 
mitted this cruel usurper to hold for one year the power 
of the Caesars, for the glory and purification of His 
Church. Our blessed Lord had said in the garden of Geth- 
semane, that all that take the sword shall perish with 
the sword (Matt. xxvi. 52). In His eternal decrees, He 
had prepared His judgment for Philip, who had unjustly 
drawn his sword against Gordian ; and by the hand of a 
usurper he too must die. Towards the end of the year 
249, intelligence was brought from the East to Eome 
that Iotapian and Priscus had been declared Emperors 
by a part of the army. The revolt was soon quelled and 
the usurpers killed; but the spirit of revolution had 
spread like a pestilence, and another and more formidable 
rival appeared in Decius, who was declared Emperor by 
the great bulk of the army, then on the confines of Pan- 
nonia. Philip met him with a much larger force near 
the walls of Verona; a desperate battle ensued, in which 
the Emperor was slain. No sooner was the news of his 
defeat brought to Eome, than the praetorians murdered 
the son of Philip, and declared Decius Emperor ; but 
they little knew the character of the man to whom they 
were committing their property, their honour, and 
their lives. He entered Rome in triumph, and one of 
his first imperial acts was to issue edicts against the 
Christians. 

Decius seemed determined to destroy the very name 


260 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


of Christian, and his edicts were as cruel as those which 
had issued from Nero or Domitian. He affected an in¬ 
dignation that almost amounted to frenzy against the 
Romans, because they had abandoned the worship of 
their gods, and permitted the progress of the hated 
Christianity. “ He imagined,” says St. Gregory of 
Nyssa, “ by cruelty and bloodshed to resist the power of 
God, to overturn the Church of Christ, and prevent the 
further preaching of the mysteries of the gospel. Then 
he sent edicts to all the rulers of the provinces, threaten¬ 
ing them with the most dreadful torments if they did 
not endeavour to exterminate the Christian name, and 
bring the people back again to the worship of the devils of 
the Empire.” 

He found willing agents in his magistrates, and so 
warmly did they take up the terrible declaration against 
the unoffending Christians, that, according to the same 
authority, all public business was suspended for some 
time that they might carry out the terrible decrees. 
The prisons could not hold the multitudes that were 
seized ; and whilst some were put to death by the most 
cruel torments in the public squares, others found a home 
in the deserts. “ Nor was there mercy for childhood or 
age, but all, as in a city taken by a cruel and enraged 
enemy, were handed over to torture and death; not even 
the natural weakness of the female sex was pitied, that 
they at least might be freed from excruciating tortures ; 
the same .terrible law of cruelty raged against everything 
that was considered adverse to the idols.” (St. Greg, of 
Nyssa, towards the end of sermon on St. Greg. Thauma- 
turgus.) 

It seems somewhat doubtful whether our Saints, Abdon 


THE PERSIAN KINGS. 


261 


and Sennen, who suffered in the Coliseum during this 
persecution, were brought from Persia by force, or had 
come, like many other Persian nobles, through a sense of 
devotion or curiosity, to the great Roman capital. The 
Acts adopted by the Bollandists state that they were 
brought thither in chains by Decius himself. The Em¬ 
peror was not in Persia, although he set out on an expe¬ 
dition towards the East, in which he was slain; but this 
might have happened under Gordian, as Decius was then 
a commander of the army, and subdued a revolt on the 
confines of Persia. The remainder of the Acts is received 
as genuine. As they tell the tale of the sufferings of 
those noble youths in beautiful and simple language, we 
will give them almost word for Avord. 

When Decius arrived in Rome, he ordered the Senate 
to be assembled, and the Persian youths to be brought 
before him. They were brought in chains, and bore the 
marks of the cruelty with which they had been treated ; 
they wore the royal insignia of their power, the gold and 
precious stones and splendour of their embroidered gar¬ 
ments contrasting sadly with the heavy chains of criminals 
that bound their hands and feet. The whole Senate 
looked on them with pity. Almighty God had cast 
around His servants a majesty and a celestial beauty that 
struck the bystanders with awe and respect. 

Decius, rising up, addressed the Senate in these words: 

“ Conscript fathers ! be it known to your august assem¬ 
bly, that the gods and goddesses have delivered into our 
hands the most inveterate enemies of the Empire. Be¬ 
hold the wretches before you.” And when a murmur had 
passed through the assembly, all were silent through fear, 
they seemed to regard the young noblemen with sympa- 


2G2 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


thy. Then Deems commanded the high priest named 
Claudius to be brought from the Capitol in order to make 
them sacrifice. 

When he was come, Decius said to them : “ If you 
sacrifice now, you can remain in the liberty of kings, and 
enjoy your possessions in increased honour and power 
under the great Empire of Rome. Take care how you 
refuse.” 

But Abdon answered for himself and his companion, 
and said: “We have offered sacrifice and homage, 
though unworthily, to our Lord Jesus Christ; we shall 
never sacrifice to your false gods,” 

Decius cried out to the lictors and attendants : “ Let 
the severest torments be prepared for these wretches, and 
let fierce lions and bears tear them to pieces.” 

Abdon bravely answered: “ Do not delay the execu¬ 
tion of thy sentence ; we are longing to possess our Lord 
Jesus Christ, who is able, when he willeth, to destroy 
thyself and thy wicked machinations against His Church." 

Decius ordered a public manifestation to be made in 
the amphitheatre, that all might see the fate of the royal 
Christians. On the day appointed they were brought 
before the Temple of the Sun, to try if they would offer 
sacrifice. They were roughly dragged before the idol by 
the soldiers, but they spat on it with contempt. They 
were then stript of their garments, and scourged. After 
this they were brought into the Coliseum to be devoured 
by wild beasts. Whilst entering into the arena they said 
aloud : “ Thanks be to God, we are going to our crown ; ” 
and making the sign of the cross, they began to pray. 
Some bears and two lions were let into the arena, but 
they came bellowing to the feet of the martyrs, and not 


THE PERSIAN KINGS. 


263 


only would not touch them, but would not leave them, 
and even prevented the keepers from approaching the 
holy servants of God. Seeing this, Valerian cried out : 
“ They have some magic power about them; let the gladi¬ 
ators slay them.” The gladiators entered with spears 
and slew them ; their bodies were tied together, and 
were cast before the Temple of the Sun, alongside the 
amphitheatre, and were left there as a terror to the Chris¬ 
tians for three days. On the third night, the Christian 
Quirinus, sub-deacon,who remained near the amphitheatre 
all the time, watching an opportunity to take the bodies, 
succeeded in bringing them to his own house. He 
respectfully wrapped them in fine linen, and enclosed 
them in a leaden case. Their bodies were thus preserved 
until the time of Constantine. 

The spot where they are supposed to have been laid is 
now under the Passionists’ garden on the Coelian. But 
God would not have the remains or the memory of such 
great martyrs entirely lost to the world. During the 
reign of Constantine, when He had displayed to His 
infant Church in Rome the rainbow of peace and pros¬ 
perity, He admonished a holy priest in a vision where he 
would find the remains of SS. Abd'on and Sennen, and 
they were removed to the cemetery of Pontiano, or ad 
Ursum Pileatum, as it was known in the early days of the 
Church. The beautiful and ancient Church of St. Bibiana 
is erected over this cemetery. When Gregory IV. was 
restoring the venerable Church of St. Mark in the ninth 
century, he had the bodies of these two great saints 
removed, and they are justly enumerated amongst the 
great treasures with which Gregory enriched that church. 
Relics were sent to Florence, and some also to France ; 


264 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


but the larger portion of their remains is still preserved 
in the confessional of St. Mark’s, awaiting the hour in 
which they will be united again to the brave spirits 
that animated them, to assist in the judgment of the 
wicked world that condemned them. 



CHAPTER XV. 

THE ACTS OF POPE STEPHEN. 

1 . 

S HE events we are about to relate took place in the 
year 259 of the Christian era. The Emperors 
Valerian and Gallienus had usurped the throne, 
and under their tyrannical rule a terrible persecution 
burst upon the Church. Scarcely in any other reign of 
the two hundred and fifty years that had passed over the 
Church are there to be found such visible interpositions 
of Divine Providence for the glory of His martyrs and the 
humiliation of His enemies. The thunders of heaven 
rolled over the heads of the persecutors, the earth shook 
beneath their feet, and their idols were melted like lead 
in a furnace at the prayers of the martyrs; yet the stream 
of blood flowed on, and the angels were daily and hourly 
carrying aloft the peerless spirits of the triumphant 
Christians to the abodes of peace and joy. 

There never was a time in the history of the Empire 
when the people were so visited by public calamities as 
during the reigns of Gallus and Valerian. Inundations, 
fires and earthquakes had decimated whole provinces, 
and destroyed cultivated lands and beautiful cities; 


266 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


famine and pestilence joined in the war of extermina¬ 
tion, and the sighs of grief were heard on every side. As 
might have been expected, the Christians were blamed 
for all the calamities of the Empire. The Evil One spoke 
through the oracles on the Capitol, and fired the public 
mind against the “ detested religion,” which was now 
spreading on every side. The persecution came ; but the 
circumstances that brought it about were peculiar. 

For the first three years of his reign, the rule of the 
Emperor Valerian was mild and pacific. He was in a 
particular manner partial to the Christians. In public 
and private he showed them respect and favour, and 
the Church flourished on every side. “ Before the per¬ 
secution,” says Eusebius, the great historian of the early 
history of the Church, “ Valerian was gentle and kind 
towards the servants of God. Not one of the former 
Emperors—not even he who was publicly recognised as 
a Christian (Philip, A.D. 244)—showed such favour to¬ 
wards us as this prince in the commencement of his reign. 
His household was filled with Christians, and appeared 
to be a Church of Jesus Christ rather than a palace of 
the Roman Emperor.” (Book vii., chap, x.) 

Amongst the courtiers was a man named Macrian. 
He was of low birth, but had some pretensions to 
learning; being well skilled in sorcery and magic, he 
ingratiated himself into favour with the Emperor. 
Avarice, ambition and cruelty had taken possession of 
his soul. He aimed at the supreme power, and longed 
to gratify the base propensities of his heart, by shedding 
the blood of the Christians, whom he hated without a 
cause. It is supposed that the demons, who are per¬ 
mitted to influence men through the black art, intimated 


THE ACTS OF POPE STEPHEN, 


267 


to Macrian that lie could never attain the realization of 
his ambitious hopes as long as Valerian was a friend to 
the Christians. He set himself with cruel ingenuity to 
pervert the noble and generous disposition of the peace¬ 
ful Emperor, and history tells the terrible tale of his suc¬ 
cess. He commenced by telling him of the wonders of 
magic; how it could unveil th e future and guide the 
present in the paths of the highest prosperity, and was 
the talisman of wealth, power and glory. The unthink¬ 
ing Valerian was caught like a fly in poisoned honey. 
Under the counsels of his impious preceptor, he began 
to believe that lessons of wisdom were written on the 
entrails of new-born infants, and that the terrible secrets 
of the unknown future might be deciphered in the life- 
streams of the heart’s blood. His first victim was a new¬ 
born child. In blinded fanaticism he bent over the 
reeking entrails of the infant to trace in its scarlet fibres 
the language of prophecy and knowledge. The jaundiced 
eye sees everything one colour; so when passion rules 
predominant in the soul, every thought is moulded to its 
form, and the noble faculties of the intellect and will lend 
their services to its gratification. Thus Valerian thought 
he saw in the horrible practices of magic the unveiled 
sources of knowledge and power. It is not to be won¬ 
dered at that, under the guidance of the impious 
Macrian, he found out that the gods (the devils) were 
not pleased with the Christian sect; and, as one abyss 
calls on another, he fell into the lowest depths of cruelty, 
intolerance and fanaticism. The end of the year 251 
found Valerian one of the most cruel and unfeeling per¬ 
secutors of the Church. 

During the days of peace that preceded this persecu* 


268 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


tion, Almighty God vouchsafed to the holy St. Cyprian, 
Bishop of Carthage, a knowledge of the terrible time that 
was coming. The learned Bishop wrote to several 
Churches to prepare them for the storm. In his sublime 
exhortation to martyrdom, in his letter to the Thibari- 
tans, he says : “ Instructed by the light which the Lord 
has deigned to give us, we must forewarn your souls by 
the solicitude of our admonition; for you must know, 
and hold for certain, that a day of terrible trial is about 
to dawn—the time of Antichrist is at hand. We must 
all stand prepared for the battle, and think of naught but 
the crown of glory, and the ineffable .reward that will 
follow a brave confession of the faith. Nor are the trials 
that are coming like the past; a severer and bloodier 
combat awaits us, for which the soldiers of Christ must 
prepare by unflinching faith and unsullied virtue, remem¬ 
bering they daily consume the blood of Christ, that they 
may shed their blood for Him.” (St. Cyprian, Epis. 56, 
ad Thibaritanos, de Exhortat. Mart.) 

When the clouds that threatened the storm to the pro¬ 
phetic eye of Cyprian burst in the following year over the 
world in all the horrors of a bloody persecution, the great 
doctor himself was one of its most remarkable victims. 
He tells us, in another part of his works, when the per¬ 
secution broke out, how the infuriate mob called aloud 
in the amphitheatre of Carthage that he should be cast 
to the lions. As the highest buildings are most exposed 
to the lightning, so the Bishops and Fathers of the 
Church were the first victims of the persecution. In 
Borne, the great Pope Stephen was martyred whilst 
celebrating mass in the Catacombs. It is from the Acts 
of this Holy Pontiff we will quote just now some of the 


THE ACTS OF POPE STEPHEN. 269 

scenes connected with the Coliseum during this persecu¬ 
tion. 

Although Almighty God permitted the persecution to 
try His Church, yet He prepared a terrible retribution for 
the injustice of His enemies. All the persecutors came 
to an untimely and miserable end. Perhaps not one of 
those tyrants who shed Christian blood was so humbled 
or accursed as Valerian. “ They have chosen their own 
way,” says Almighty God, through the prophet Isaias, 
“ and the abominations which their heart desired; but I 
will show ifp their folly, and will repay them for their 
sins.” (Isaiaslxvi. 3, 4.) The whole Empire participated 
in the curse that fell on the impious Valerian; the accu¬ 
mulated evils of plagues, famines, earthquakes, and civil 
wars swept like a tempest over the world, decimating 
the human race, and spreading terror and confusion on 
every side. The barbarians who were on the borders of 
the provinces rushed in, as if by a preconcerted plan, on 
different portions of the Empire, and commenced to pil¬ 
lage and plunder all before them. Valerian was forced 
to turn his attention to more formidable enemies than the 
unoffending Christians. He organised the troops for war, 
he sent his son Gallienus against the Germans, and his 
best and bravest captains to other portions of the Empire; 
whilst he himself took the lead of the army against the 
Persians, who were now, as for many years past, the most 
formidable enemies of the Empire. Sapor, the King of 
the Persians, routed and destroyed the Eoman army, and 
took the Emperor prisoner; a terrible hour of retaliation 
had come for the cruel Valerian. He was dragged before 
the haughty Persian in chains, and still clothed in his 
magnificent robes of purple and gold. After having in- 


270 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


suited him in the most cruel and barbarous manner, he 
was made to walk before the chariot of the Persian king, 
and thus brought through all the towns of the kingdom, 
to be insulted and ill-treated by the entire Persian people. 
The vilest slave could not have been treated with more 
contempt. Every time that Sapor wished to enter his 
chariot or mount his horse, Valerian was brought out and 
made to stoop down with his face towards the ground, 
so that the barbarian king might make a footstool of his 
back. After several years passed in the most horrible 
servility, in hunger, insult and unceasing pain, a fate 
still more terrible awaited him. When his natural strength 
was failing, it was determined to anticipate death by the 
last and cruellest act of their revenge. He was flayed 
alive, and his skin, stuffed with straw, was hung up in 
one of their temples as a monument of their triumph 
and revenge. Thus shall they perish who raise their arm 
against God! 

2 . 

Whilst Valerian was prosecuting his horrible and im¬ 
pure studies in magic, the Christians were aware of the 
change that had come over his character, and prepared 
themselves for the impending storm. The Catacombs 
were opened again, and provisions were brought to those 
dreary abodes of the dead ; the altar and the tabernacle 
were shorn of their ornaments, and the dread mysteries 
were celebrated once more by the tombs of the martyrs 
in the gloomy passages under ground. The catechumens 
were all baptized, and the faithful were exhorted and 
fortified by frequent Communion and unceasing prayer. 
Valerian showed by many signs his altered feelings 


THE ACTS OF POPE STEPHEN. 


271 


towards the Christians, and whilst he was premeditating 
a dreadful carnage of the followers of Christ, an heroic 
act of zeal and courage by one of the domestics of the 
palace roused the latent fire of his cruel and perverted 
heart, and unsheathed the sword for the bloodshed of 
thousands. 

One day a poor woman was seen we eping and distracted 
with grief outside the gates of the royal palace. A 
Christian servant of the household was passing, and 
learned that she was robbed of her child by the Emperor, 
and she knew they were cutting it to pieces inside. The 
Christian went to the apartments of the Emperor, and 
found him with the impious Macrian bending over the 
lifeless body of a beautiful infant; their hands were 
stained with blood; they looked more like furies than 
men. Roused to holy indignation at the dreadful sight, 
the fearless servant of God reproved the Emperor for his 
impiety. She threatened him with the judgments of the 
Eternal God, and made him tremble at the terrible retri¬ 
bution that hangs over the murderer and the oppressor 
of the poor; but the spirit of evil had already taken 
possession of the wretched Valerian ; the language of re¬ 
proof grated harshly on his haughty soul and, bursting 
into rage, he ordered the lictors to remove and torture 
the Christian that dared to correct him. In the same 
breath in which he condemned his first martyr, he ordered 
the bronze plates that announced the decrees of persecu¬ 
tion and bloodshed to be hung from the walls of the 
Capitol and the columns of the Forum. 

Pope Stephen called his trembling flock around him, 
and exhorted them to martyrdom ; by holy admonitions 
and by love of sacred writ he imbued their minds with 


272 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


sentiments of pious confidence. Amongst other things, 
say the Acts of the martyrdom of this holy Pontiff, which 
we quote from Baronius, (a.d. 259) he addressed them in 
these words: “ My beloved little children., listen to me a 
sinner. While there is yet time, let us be instant in good 
works, and that not only to our neighbours, but to our¬ 
selves ; and, in the first place, let me admonish each one 
to take up his cross and follow our Lord Jesus Christ, 
who has vouchsafed to say to us, 1 He that loves his life 
shall lose it, but he that loses his life for my sake shall 
find it in eternity.’ Wherefore, I beseech you all to be 
most solicitous, not only for your own, but for your 
neighbours’ salvation; so that if any among you have 
friends or relations still in heathenism, let him hasten to 
conduct them hither to receive baptism at our hands.” 

Among the Christians who were listening to the ad¬ 
dress of the holy father, there was a saintly and vener¬ 
able man named Hippolytus, who had been a wealthy 
Eoman citizen, but gave all his substance to the poor, 
and was now leading a solitary life in the Catacombs on 
the Appian Way. When Stephen had ceased to address 
the Christians, Hippolytus cast himself at his feet, and 
said: “Good father, may it please you, there are my 
nephew and his sister, both Gentiles, whom I myself 
reared—a little boy about ten years of age, and the girl 
thirteen; their mother, a Gentile, is called Paulina ; their 
father, who sends them both to me from time to time, is 
named Adrias.” Then the blessed Stephen exhorted him 
to detain the children when next sent, that thereby the 
parents also might be brought to visit him. 

After two days the above-mentioned children came to 
Hippolytus, bringing certain cakes of bread. He detained 


THE ACTS OF POPE STEPHEN. 273 

them, and sent word to the blessed Stephen, who coming 
embraced the little ones and cherished them. Full of 
solicitude about their children, the parents came in haste 
to seek them. Then Stephen addressed them on the 
terrors of the future and tremendous judgment, earnestly 
exhorting them to abandon the idols, as did Hippolytus 
also. Adrias, the father of the children, said that he 
dreaded being despoiled of his property and put to death 
—the lot prepared for all who professed themselves 
Christians. Paulina, sister of Hippolytus, said the same, 
and rebuked him for urging such a course, for she hated 
the religion of the Christians. They departed, leaving 
those in the Catacombs who had exhorted them without 
success, but not without hope. 

Then the blessed Stephen, calling the learned priest 
Eusebius and the deacon Marcellus, sent them to Adrias 
and Paulina, to invite them again to the Catacomb where 
Hippolytus abode; and when they were come, Eusebius 
said to them: “Christ expects you, that He may introduce 
you into the kingdom of heaven.” And when Paulina 
began to insist on the glory of this world and the miser¬ 
able lot of the Christians, he portrayed to them the 
ineffable glories of heaven, which they could not attain 
except through faith and baptism. Paulina declined to 
decide till the next day. The same night there came a 
Christian father and mother with their son, who was a 
paralytic, to Eusebius in the Catacombs, to have him 
baptized; who, praying over him, baptized him; where¬ 
upon he was cured, and his tongue being loosened, he 
gave praise to God. Then Eusebius offered up the Holy 
Sacrifice, and all participated in the body and blood of 
Christ. When Stephen the Bishop heard of this, he came, 

and they rejoiced together. 

R 


274 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


But when it was morning, Adrias and Paulina returned, 
and on hearing of the cure of the boy, being filled with 
admiration, they prostrated themselves with great con¬ 
trition, praying the Pontiff to baptize them. Seeing this, 
Hippolytus gave thanks to God, and cried out: “ Holy 
father, do not defer their baptism.” Stephen answered : 
“ Let then the necessary solemnities be completed, and 
put to them the prescribed questions, that it may be seen 
if they truly believe and have no longer any trepidation 
at heart.” After the interrogation, he enjoined them a 
fast, and having instructed all the catechumens, he bap¬ 
tized them in the name of the Trinity, and placing on 
them the sign of the cross, he called the boy Neone, and 
the girl Mary, and he offered the Holy Sacrifice for them. 
When all had communicated, the blessed Stephen de¬ 
parted. The newly-baptized remained, and dwelt with 
Hippolytus, Eusebius and Marcellus in the Catacombs, 
but the property which they had in the city they 
distributed among the poor. 

As soon as the news of this transaction came to the ears 
of the Emperor, orders were issued to seek out the con¬ 
verts, and a reward of half their property was offered to 
any one who should detect them. It was then that 
Maximus, a writer in one of the government offices, had 
recourse to a device to find them out. He feigned him¬ 
self a Christian that begged alms, and coming to a place 
called Area Carbonaria, on the Ccelian Hill, remained 
there begging until he saw Adrias passing by, to whom 
he thus addressed himself in order to obtain a proof of 
his being a Christian :—“ For Christ’s sake, in whom I 
believe, I beseech yon, take pity on my distress.” Then 
Adrias, taking pity on him, bid him follow. But when 


THE ACTS OF POPE STEPHEN. 


275 


they were entering the house, Maximus was seized by a 
demon, and cried out: “ Man of God ! I am an informer. 
I see above me an immense fire; oh ! pray for me ; I am 
tortured by the flames ! ” Afterwards, when they had 
interceded for him with tears, he fell prostrate on the 
ground, and was cured; and when they lifted him up 
he exclaimed : “ Perish the worshippers of idols; let me 
be baptized ! ” They took him to the blessed Stephen, 
who, having instructed him, at length baptized him, and 
he prayed to remain some days with Stephen the Bishop 
after he was made a Christian. 

When Maximus did not return, search was made for 
him, and some of his fellow-clerks were sent from the 
same department to his house. They found him pros¬ 
trate in prayer. Laying hands on him, they brought 
him before Valerian, who said to him: “Hast thou been 
so blinded by bribes as to deceive me V 1 

“ True,” replied Maximus, “ hitherto I have been blind; 
but now, being illuminated, I see.” 

“ In what light 1 ” said the Emperor. 

“In the faith of the Lord Jesus Christ,” replied 
Maximus. 

Then Valerian in a rage ordered him to be precipitated 
from one of the bridges of the Tiber. His body was 
afterwards buried by Eusebius in the Catacombs on the 
Appian Way.* 

* The little chapel in which Maximus was interred is still shown 
in the Catacombs of St. Sebastian on the. Appian Way. As these 
Catacombs are left publicly open for strangers, there are none ho 
well known in the Eternal City. The stone with the inscription 
“ Locus Maximi,” is still preserved in the same spot. It was in 
this gloomy subterranean chapel that St. Philip Neri used to spend 
whole nights in prayer. 


£76 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM . 


After this, Valerian sent a body of seventy soldiers 
with orders to use every diligence till they had found 
Eusebius and the others. When the holy priest, together 
with Adrias, Paulina, and the children, as also the vener¬ 
able Hippolytus, were discovered, they were led in bonds 
to the Forum of Trajan. The deacon Marcellus gave 
vent to complaints against the Emperor, for his cruelties 
against the friends of truth, and being denounced for 
this by Secundinus Togatus, he also was seized. 

Eusebius the priest was the first who was interrogated 
by the judg e : “ Are you the disturber of the city 1 —But, 
first, what is your name f ” 

“ I am called Eusebius, and a priest.” 

Then the judge ordered him to be set aside, and Adrias 
to be brought in; who, being first questioned as to his 
name, and then as to how he came by the abundance of 
wealth and affluence with which he seduced the people, 
replied: “ In the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, I inherit 
it from the industry of my parents.” 

“ Therefore make use of your inheritance, and do not 
waste it in subverting others,” said the judge. 

“ I do expend it truly, and without deception, for the 
advantage of myself and my children.” 

“ Hast thou children and a wife % ” 

“ They are here with me in chains.” 

“ Let them be brought in,” said the judge. 

Then Paulina with her children, Neone and Mary, 
were brought within the veil, followed by Marcellus the 
deacon and Hippolytus; when the judge said— 

“ Is this your wife 1 and are these your children ? ” 

“ They are,” said Adrias. 

“ And who are those other two 1 ” 


THE ACTS OF POPE STEPHEN . 


277 


“ That is Marcellus the deacon, and this is my brother 
Hippolytus, a faithful servant of Christ.” 

Turning to them, the judge said : “Declare with your 
own mouths by what names you are called'? *' 

Marcellus said : “ I am called Marcellus the deacon.*’ 

“ You,” said he to Hippolytus, “what is your name V 1 
“ Hippolytus, servant of the servants of Christ.” 

The judge then ordered Paulina and her children to 
be taken aside, and then said to Adrias: “ Tell me where 
your treasures are, and let you and those who have been 
led in with you offer sacrifice to the gods, and save your 
lives, which otherwise you will speedily lose.” 

“ We,” replied Hippolytus, “have already cast away 
vain'idols, and have found the Lord of heaven and earth, 
Christ the Son of God, in whom we believe. 

Then the judge ordered all to be led to the public 
prison and not to be separated : they were led to the 
Mamertine keep. 

After three days, the prefect, assisted by Probus, held 
his court in the Temple of the Earth, where he had or¬ 
dered instruments of torture of all descriptions to be kept 
in readiness. Adrias was brought in first, and was inter¬ 
rogated about his property. When nothing satisfactory 
was elicited, the altar was lit up before the goddess 
Minerva, and they were ordered to offer incense. But 
all rejecting the proposal with horror, laughed at the 
judge for asking them. They were then ordered to be 
stripped, and being extended naked on the rack, were 
beaten with sticks. Then the blessed Paulina, being 
very severely beaten, resigned her soul to God. Seeing 
this, the judge ordered Eusebius and Marcellus to be 
beheaded. The sentence was executed at the Petra 


278 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM . 


Scelerata, near the Coliseum, on the 13th of the kalends 
of November. Their bodies were left for the dogs ; that 
of St. Paulina w r as cast out of the pavement; and all 
three were collected by another Hippolytus, a deacon, 
and buried in the Catacombs on the Appian Way, where 
they had so often met. 

Secundinus after this brought Adrias and his children 
with Hippolytus home to his own house, leaving nothing 
untried to discover the money; but their answer was : 
“ What we had, we expended on the poor ; our treasures 
are our souls, which we can on no account afford to lose; 
obey your commission.” Then Secundinus had the chil¬ 
dren tortured ; to whom their father said : “ Be constant, 
my children.” While they were under the strokes, they 
said nothing but “ Christ, assist us.” 

After this he commanded Adrias and Hippolytus to be 
submitted to torments, directing their sides to be burned 
with torches; and when they had been tortured in vari¬ 
ous ways and could in nowise be induced to sacrifice, or 
even to say that they consented to it, Secundinus said: 
“ Quickly lift the children Neone and Mary from the 
ground, and carrying them to the Petra Scelerata, slay 
them before their father’s eyes.” When this had been 
done, their bodies were flung on the public place ( i.e ., 
alongside the amphitheatre). They were carried away 
at night by the faithful, and interred in the same catacomb 
with their mother on the Appian Way. 

When Secundinus had announced all to Valerian, aftei 
eight days, he directed his throne to be prepared in the 
circus. Flaminius and Hippolytus and Adrias, bound in 
chains, were conducted, with a herald crying out before 
them : “ These are the guilty wretches, the guilty wretches 


- THE ACTS OF POPE STEPHEN. 


279 


that overthrow the city; ” and when they had arrived 
before the tribunal, the judge began again to question 
them about the money, saying : “ Give up the money by 
w hich you used to lead the people into error.” 

“We preach Christ,” replied Adrias, “ who deigned to 
liberate us from error, not for the destruction of men, but 
that we may have life.” 

When Secundinus Togatus saw his words availed 
nothing, he directed their jaws to be beaten for a long 
time with leaden sticks, while the crier made proclama¬ 
tion to them : “ Sacrifice to the gods by burning incense ;” 
for he had ordered a lighted tripod to be placed there for 
the purpose. 

Hippolytus, streaming with blood, cried out: “ Execute 
your office, unhappy man, and cease not! ” 

Then Secundinus ordered the executioners to cease 
beating them, and said: “ Now at least take pity on 
yourselves ; you see I pity your foolishness.” 

They answered: “ We are ready to bear any torments 
rather than do what you or the Emperor wish us.” 
Secundinus reported this to the Emperor Valerian, who 
ordered them to be forthwith destroyed in the presence 
of the people. 

Then Secundinus commanded them to be taken to the 
bridge of Antoninus, and to be beaten to death; where, 
after suffering a long time,they gave up the ghost, and their 
bodies were left in the same place near the island Lycao- 
nia. Hippolytus, a deacon of the Roman Church, came 
by night and removed their bodies to the same crypt on 
the Appian Way (5th Ides of December) where the other 
Saints had been placed. (See Baronius, under the yea* 
259, No. 8 and following.) 


280 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


From the Acts we have been quoting, we find that no 
sooner had the Catacombs been consecrated by the sacred 
remains of the martyrs than they became the voluntary 
homes of the living. Whilst peace reigned in the Empire 
and the dread sacrifice was offered in little churches in 
the very heart of the city, some of the fervent Christians 
retired to the Catacombs for prayer and solitude. Such 
was the case withHippolytus, the brother of Paulina, whose 
terrible death we have just recorded. We have in the 
same Acts a beautiful account of a Grecian woman and 
her daughter who spent some years in one of the crypts 
on the Appian way, remaining in prayer by the tombs of 
the martyrs long after the sword of persecution had been 
returned to its scabbard. These were relatives of Adrias 
and Paulina, and were likewise Christians. Having ar¬ 
rived in Eome, they learned that their kinsfolk were 
martyred; they went in great joy to the little chapel in 
the Catacombs of St. Sebastian (as they are now called), 
where these martyrs were buried, and there passed thir¬ 
teen years in vigils and prayers, until it pleased God to 
call them to Himself, and they were interred in the same 
crypt. 

3. 

Nearly a year had passed since the scenes described 
above took place. The persecution still raged, but was 
losing the virulence of its first outbreak. The Evil One, 
who had taken possession of the heart of Valerian, urged 
him on to still greater cruelties, and to deeper and more 
intense hatred against the Christians. Consequently, he 
issued a new edict, more formidable and cruel than the 
preceding. Informers were promised a reward of all the 


THE ACTS OF POPE STEPHEN. 


231 


property of the Christians they should betray ; and Vale¬ 
rian himself sent secret orders to the rulers of the pro¬ 
vinces, that although he publicly commanded only the 
death of the principal Christians, he in reality wished, 
the entire extermination of the sect. Thus in the follow¬ 
ing year, the persecution raged more fiercely than ever ; 
and we must now return to the second part of the 
beautiful Acts we have just quoted, and continue the 
tale of bloodshed and horror that passed under the walls 
of the Coliseum seventeen centuries ago. 

When the edict was published, the blessed Stephen, 
having assembled all the clergy, thus addressed them : 
“ Brethren and fellow-soldiers, you have heard of the 
cruel and diabolical mandates that have been issued, that 
if any Gentile deliver up a Christian, he shall receive his 
entire property. Do you, therefore, brethren, reject the 
goods of this world with contempt, that you may receive 
a celestial kingdom ; fear not the princes of this world, 
but pray to the Lord God of heaven, and to Jesus Christ 
His Son, who can rescue us from the hands of our enemies, 
and from the malice of Satan, to associate us to His 
grace.” 

Then the presbyter Bonus, answering, said: “ Not only 
are we prepared to relinquish earthly possessions, but 
even to pour out our blood for the name of our Lord 
Jesus Christ, so that we may deserve to obtain His grace.” 
And having spoken thus, all the clergy prostrated them¬ 
selves at the feet of the blessed Stephen, and told him 
there were some Gentile children and others of their 
neighbours not yet baptized, whom they prayed permis¬ 
sion to bring; wherefore he directed that all should 
assemble the next day in the crypt of Nepotiana. 


282 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


When the next day came, there were found assembled 
catechumens of both sexes to the number of one hundred 
and eight; all of whom the same Stephen baptized, and 
offered for them sacrifice, of which they all partook. 
Whilst the Pontiff held his station in this Catacomb, ar¬ 
ranging the affairs of the Church, teaching, exhorting, 
holding councils, and celebrating mass, through the crypts 
of the martyrs, multitudes of the Gentiles resorted to 
him to be instructed and baptized. 

The servant of one of these, Sempronius, had been 
seized, and was questioned in every way to force him to 
disclose how he had disposed of his master’s riches ; and 
amongst other things, when the idol of Mars, with a tri¬ 
pod, was placed before him that he might sacrifice, he 
said: “ May the Lord Jesus Christ, Son of the living God, 
destroy thee !” and forthwith the idol melted. Amazed 
at this, Olympius, the officer charged with his execution, 
ordered him to be brought to his own dwelling, threaten¬ 
ing to exhaust every species of torment on him that 
night. 

On coming home, he told his wife, Exuperia, how the 
idol melted at the name of Christ. “ If, then,” said she, 
“ so great be the virtue of that name as thou narratest, 
it is better for us to abandon gods who cannot defend 
either us or themselves, and seek Him who gave sight to 
the daughter of Nemesius.” Olympius then told his 
domestic, Tertullian, to treat Sempronius with honour, and 
to try and discover where the treasures were of Nemesius, 
his master. But that same night, he with his wife Exu¬ 
peria, along with their son, came to Sempronius, and 
falling at his feet, said : “ We recognise the power of 
Christ; we seek to be baptized by thee.” 


THE ACTS OF POPE STEPHEN. 


283 


Sempronius said to Oiympius: “If you do penance 
with your wife and son, all shall be administered to you 
in due season.” 

“ Thou shalt have proof even now,” said Oiympius, 
“ that from my whole heart I believe in the Lord whom 
thou preachest; ” and so saying, he opened a room where 
he had idols of gold and silver and marble, and told 
Sempronius he was ready to do with them whatsoever 
he should direct. 

“ Then,” said Sempronius, “ destroy every one of them 
with your own hands—the gold and silver ones melt 
down with fire, and distribute them to the poor ; and 
then I shall know that thou believest with thy whole 
‘heart.” 

When Oiympius had done so, a voice was heard say¬ 
ing : “ Let my Spirit rest in thee.” On hearing this* 
Oiympius and his wife began to be strengthened more 
and more, and to glow with a fervent longing to be bap¬ 
tized. 

Sempronius communicated these things to Nemesius, 
now at liberty, who went in haste to inform the blessed 
Stephen, who returned thanks to Almighty God, and 
went in the night to the house of Oiympius, who fell at 
his feet, together with his wife and son, pointing to the 
fragments of his idols as a token of his sincerity. Seeing 
this, the blessed Stephen gave thanks to God, and com¬ 
menced to catechise them on ecclesiastical tradition. 
He then baptized them and all of their household that 
believed, together with their son, whom he called Tlieo- 
dulus, and offered sacrifice for their redemption. 

After the third day, this news was brought to Valerian 
and Gallienus, who forthwith ordered Nemesius and his 


234 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


daughter Lucilla, whose sight had been restored, to bo 
slain at the Temple of Mars on the Appian Way, while 
Sempronius, Olympius, Exuperia, and Theodulus were 
burned to death near the amphitheatre. They expired 
singing the praises of Christ, who had vouchsafed to as¬ 
sociate them with His martyrs; and their remains hav¬ 
ing been collected by the clergy were consigned to the 
tomb by the blessed Stephen with the accustomed hymns. 

After some days, special edicts were issued for the 
apprehension and punishment of Stephen and the clergy 
of the Roman Church. Twelve of the latter were im¬ 
mediately seized and put t o death without any hearing. 
Amongst them was that venerable priest named Bonus, 
or the Good, who had made that glorious declaration 
when the clergy were addressed in the Catacombs by 
Pope Stephen. Their bodies were collected, and laid 
near those of two other holy martyrs in a crypt near the 
Via Latina, by Tertullian, freedman of Olympius. On 
learning this, the blessed Stephen sent for Tertullian, and 
having instructed him regarding the kingdom of God and 
life eternal, baptized him, and gave him in charge, while 
yet in his white robes, to a priest, who specially enjoined 
him to seek out the bodies of the holy martyrs. After 
two days, he was taken and brought before Valerian, by 
whom he was interrogated as to the property of Olym¬ 
pius; and having answered, and sustained every species 
of torture with heroic constancy, he was finally beheaded 
at the second milestone on the Via Latina. His remains 
were collected by the blessed Stephen and interred in the 
same crypt. 

The next day soldiers were sent to seize Stephen, and 
the clergy who were with him ; and when they had led 


285 


THE ACTS OF POPE STEPHEN. 

him into the presence of Valerian, the Emperor said: “Is 
it you who are endeavouring to overthrow the Republic, 
and by your persuasion to induce the people to abandon 
the worship of the gods 1 ” 

To which Stephen replied : “ I indeed do not over¬ 
throw the Republic; but I admonish and exhort the 
people that, forsaking the demons whom they worship in 
their idols, they would pay homage to the true God, and 
Jesus Christ, whom He has sent.” Then Valerian com¬ 
manded him to be led to the Temple of Mars, where his 
sentence was to be read from the tablets. 

Blessed Stephen, being led out of the city on the Via 
Appia, when he had come to the Temple of Mars, said, 
lifting his eyes to heaven : “ Lord God and Father, who 
didst destroy the tower of confusion at Babel, destroy 
this place in which the devil deceives people to supersti¬ 
tion.” It then began to thunder ; and the lightning 
flashes struck the temple, which in part fell to the ground. 
The soldiers having fled, Stephen, who remained alone, 
went with his attendant priests and deacons to the neigh¬ 
bouring cemetery of Lucina, where he* encouraged the 
Christians to martyrdom by many exhortations. After 
this, he offered sacrifice to the Omnipotent God. The 
soldiers who were sent in pursuit, found him in the act of 
celebrating mass ; but, without being terrified, he con¬ 
tinued intrepidly the mysteries which he had commenced, 
until they struck off his head as he sat in the ponti¬ 
fical chair before the altar, on the 4th of the Nones of 
August. Great were the lamentations made by the 
Christians at being deprived of so great a pastor, and 
they interred his body, with the chair drenched with his 
blood, in the same crypt, in the place called the cemetery 
of Caliistus. (See Baronius, An. 2G0.) 


286 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


The relics of Hippolytus, Adrias, Paulina, and the 
children Neone and Mary, are preserved under the high 
altar of the beautiful little church of St. Agatha, in 
Suburra. It is now the collegiate chapel of the Irish 
students at Rome, to whom it was given, together with 
the spacious college attached, by Gregory XVI., “ whose 
memory is in benediction.” The faithful children of St. 
Patrick kneel around this venerable shrine, and learn in 
prayer that spirit of martyrdom which is still necessary 
for their own suffering country. Ireland, too, has had 
her martyrs ; and the shrine of the victims of the early 
persecutions of the Church must forcibly recall to the 
memory of the exiled Levite the history of his suffering 
country. His faith sees the brighter side of the cloud 
that passed over Ireland in the penal times ; his father? 
stand with the heroes of Rome amid the bright galaxy of 
heaven’s martyrs ; his country is numbered amongst the 
nations favoured by God. 



CHAPTER XVI. 


THE TWO HUNDRED AND SIXTY SOLDIERS. 

HILST the impious Valerian was paying the 
penalty of his crimes under the galling lash of 
the victorious Persian King, Sapor, his worth¬ 
less and debauched son, Gallienus, continued the reign 
of tyranny over the Empire. Without affection for his 
father, and without interest in the Empire, he gave him¬ 
self up to the most shameful excesses and debaucheries. 

Five usurpers rose almost simultaneously to wrest from 
him the reins of government. Amongst them was the 
impious Macrian, whose wicked counsel had brought 
Valerian into hostility against the Christians, and drawn 
down so terrible a retribution from heaven on that ill- 
fated Emperor. The most successful of the rivals of 
Gallienus was the soldier Claudius. He rose from a 
tribune under Valerian to be commander of a camp ; his 
triumph over the Goths made him famous ; praises were 
poured on him, statues erected to his name, and he was 
the idol of his army. His ambition kept pace with his 
fortune ; he aimed at supreme control. 

He was a crafty man, and resorted to a stratagem that 
proved successful in removing his rival. He wrote out 
the names of some of the bravest and most daring officers 


283 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


in the army of Gallienus, and imitated perfectly the 
characters and handwriting of the Emperor. This 
document, which was a pretended list of those whom 
the tyrant intended to put to death, was sent by a con¬ 
fidant to the camp of Gallienus, who was then besieging 
the usurper Aureolus in the city of Milan. It was picked 
up by one of the intended victims. He called the others 
around him—they resolved to kill Gallienus that night. 
When all was dark, they raised a false alarm, the soldiers 
were called to arms, and in the confusion, the wretched 
Emperor was pierced through the body with a javelin, 
and an officer cut his head in two with his sword. Claudius 
was declared Emperor by his own army; defeated 
Aureolus ; and came to Rome to steep his hands in the 
blood of the Christians, to stain his name with eternal 
infamy. 

His predecessor was too intemperate to be formidable. 
Cruelty, bloodshed, and wholesale immolation of innocent 
victims are not the stains found in that page of history 
in which his name is mentioned. His impurity, intem¬ 
perance, and the open indulgence of brutal passions, did 
not allow him even a sober moment to molest the 
Christians. Yet the old laws of persecution were still 
in force ; there were judges and governors who used the 
terrible edicts to gratify the whims of cruel caprice, and 
remove those whom they considered obnoxious. Many 
martyrdoms are recorded in the provinces ; whilst in 
Rome the persecution raged without the horrors of 
bloodshed. The Christians suffered, but not in the 
Coliseum, or at the Petra Scelerata ; they were not torn 
to pieces with knotted scourges, or cast into cauldrons 
of boiling oil; they were not filing into the Tiber, 


TWO HUNDRED AND SIXTY SOLDIERS . 289 


nor beheaded at the third or seventh milestone; but 
another, and, to the Christians themselves, a more 
tedious persecution raged against them. They were 
cast into loathsome prisons, chained to the galleys, or 
made to work like public malefactors in the woods and 
sandpits in the neighbourhood of the city. Thus when 
Claudius entered Rome he had his victims prepared for 
him; his short and bloody reign opens with one of the 
most heart-rending and cruel scenes we have found in the 
Coliseum’s tales of horrors. 

In the Acts of the Persian nobles Marius and Martha 
and sons, as given in the Bollandists under the nine¬ 
teenth of January (and first of March), we read the 
following :— 

“ At the same time Claudius ordered that if any Chris¬ 
tians should be found either in prison or at large, they 
should be punished without trial. When this law was 
promulgated, there were detained in the Via Salaria two 
hundred and sixty Christians, who, for the name of Christ, 
were condemned to work in the sandpits ; these he had 
confined in a potter’s store, and then ordered to be taken 
to the amphitheatre to be slain with arrows. When this 
happened, Marius and Martha his wife, together with 
their sons Audifax and Abacuc, were very much afflicted 
— came to the place where they were slain, bringing with 
them the blessed John the priest, and found fire was 
placed over the holy bodies. They then commenced to 
remove the bodies, and bury them with liniments and 
spices, for they were very rich; and as many as they 
could rescue they buried in the crypt on the Via Salaria, 
near the Clivum Cucumeris . They buried also at the same 
time a certain tribune of Claudius, named Blastus, and 
s 


290 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM . 


in the same place they spent many days with blessed 
John in fasting and prayer.” 

The imagination must fill up the horrid details of this 
dreadful massacre. According to the Acts they were 
shot with arrows in the Coliseum. The brutal soldiery 
were permitted to take the place of the spectators, and 
to let fly their arrows on their companions who were 
forced into the arena. The corps of archers was always 
the most savage and brutal of the soldiers : from their 
body the public executioners were generally chosen; 
their intemperate habits, their rough, brutal appearance, 
and their want of the common feelings of humanity, made 
them hateful to the pagans themselves ; they were meet 
instruments in the hands of tyrants for the torture of 
Christians. 

It is terrible to contemplate these brave soldiers, un¬ 
armed, bound and silent, awaiting the fatal darts that 
were to pierce them through. In vain we look for any¬ 
thing in the horrors of shipwreck or the battlefield to com¬ 
pare to this scene. In the former its terrors are more in 
anticipation than in reality ; the wave that engulphs its 
victim, hides for ever the agonies of death ; an occasional 
scream from a struggling victim breaks through the storm; 
but then, a moment, and all is over, not a vestige of the 
wreck is seen, the mighty billows roll on and the wind 
howls as before. Not so in the scene before us in the 
Coliseum. For hours the sigh of the dying mingles with 
the rude laugh of the archers. Here a group are on their 
knees, hands clasped and in prayer; the hum of the flying 
arrows is their death-knell ; they fall one by one : there 
two friends have clasped each other in the last deadly 
embrace; they have fallen together, and their blood 


TWO HUNDRED AND SIXTY SOLDIERS. 291 


mingles in the same stream. Never was greater battle 
won by the brave ; their courage was a defiance of death 
—the spoils of their victory the richest ever won. 

Were these poor soldiers strangers to all the ties of 
nature, and the passions of the soul 1 Certainly not. 
The grace to suffer martyrdom does not mean a benumb¬ 
ing of the human sensibilities ; with them affection, fear, 
and pain are felt as strongly as in the heart of the dying 
soldier on the field of battle. Home, family and friends 
were loved by the martyr; but the supernatural unction 
of grace deadened the pang of separation ; the aged parents, 
the beloved spouse and the tender children were cheer¬ 
fully given up to that paternal Providence that blesses 
with the same stroke that it chastises. Without a mur¬ 
mur, without a sigh of regret, they awaited their crown. 

From the horrors of this massacre we are wrapt in spirit 
to another scene, bright and consoling. Away above the 
mighty vault of the amphitheatre, we see thousands of 
brilliant spirits soaring over the dying soldiers, bearing 
crowns of unfading laurel, and wafting the liberated souls 
to eternal joy. When the great ruin is lit up on a sum¬ 
mer’s evening by millions of fire-flies sailing like floating 
stars in the dark sky, it brings to mind the bright angels 
sent from on high to greet those martyred soldiers. Ter¬ 
rible was the contrast between the gloom of the carnage 
in the material world, and the joy it brought in the re¬ 
gions of true bliss. Centuries of immutable joy have 
rolled over those heroes of the Coliseum ; short their bat¬ 
tle but long and eternal their reward. The woes of earth 
are momentary pangs; beyond the grave they become 
specks in the distant horizon of the past; the excruciat¬ 
ing torments of martyrdom, which at first cause a shudder, 


292 THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 

are but seconds of transition to eternal joy. It is not, 
then, with sentiments of pity or indignation that we 
withdraw our thoughts from this scene of blood ; we look 
up from our lowliness to the bright galaxy of martyred 
spirits in the regions above, and we ask them to allow 
the struggling wayfarers in this valley of tears to join in 
their unceasing hymns of gratitude to the goodness and 
mercy of God. 



CHAPTER XVII. 

THE ACTS OF ST. PRISCA. 

1 . 

& T the time when Claudius was Csesar, he issued 
a new and most impious edict to the whole 
world, that the Christians should offer sacrifice 
to the gods or be put to death. He ordered his presidents 
and judges to carry out his law, that he might destroy 
the worship of the Christians ; he enjoined on them, 
moreover, that those consenting to sacrifice should be 
considered worthy of great honour, while non-conform¬ 
ists should be treated with the utmost cruelty. In 
order to manifest the earnestness of his zeal, and to 
commence the observance of his impious law, this Em¬ 
peror Claudius held sacrifices in the Temple of Apollo, 
and at the same time ordered the soldiers to seize all 
who were known to be Christians, men and women, and 
by dint of terror and direful tortures force them, to sacri¬ 
fice to the gods.* 

2. There were then malignant men who ardently de¬ 
sired to destroy the Christian worship ; and coming to a 

* The context of this chapter is almost a literal translation from 
the original Acts. 


294 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


certain church, they found the blessed Prisca prayin£, 
She was of noble blood ; her father had been thrice consui, 
and was exceedingly rich. This holy child was in her 
eleventh year, and was adorned with the grace of God 
and the most perfect purity of morals.* The ministers 
of the Emperor said to her : t( Our Emperor Cl audius has 
commanded you to sacrifice voluntarily to the gods.” The 
blessed Prisca said with a joyful heart: “ First let me 
enter the holy universal Church, that I may co mmend 
myself to my Lord Jesus Christ, and then we will go in 
peace. It is necessary that, in the name of our Lord, 
I confound your unworthy Emperor, and assist in the 
triumph of Jesus.” And returning to the church, she 
completed her prayers. 

3. Having finished her petition, she went with them 
to the Emperor. The ministers, entering into the apart¬ 
ments of Claudius, said to him : “ This girl is willing to 
obey the commands of your majesty.” On hearing this 
he rejoiced exceedingly, and ordered her to be brought 
into his presence. When she was brought into the 
palace before him, he said : “ Thou art great, O god 
Apollo! and glorious above all the gods, who has brought 
me this illustrious virgin, so beautiful and with such good 
dispositions. ” Then, turning to the blessed Prisca, he 
said : “ I have arranged to have you brought to me, to 
make you my mistress, and the sharer in the power of 
my kingdom.” To this Prisca said : “But I will sacrifice 
without blood, and only to the immaculate God, my Lord 
Jesus Christ.” 

4. The Emperor, hearing these things, and not under- 

* Haec in undecimo anno erat bonorum operum, et gratia Dei 
moribus ornat.”— Acts BollandisU , April 18, No. 2. 


THE ACTS OF ST. PRISCA. 


295 


standing their meaning, ordered her to be led to the 
Temple of Apollo that she might sacrifice to him. The 
holy virgin being ordered to enter the temple, said with 
a cheerful countenance to the Emperor : “ Do thou also 
enter, thou and all the priests of Apollo, that you may 
see how the omnipotent and immaculate Lord is pleased 
with the sacrifices of His faithful.” The Emperor ordered 
all who had gathered round to watch what she was going 
to do. 

Blessed Prisca said: “ Glory be to Thee, O glorious 
Father ! I invoke Thee, I implore Thee, cast down this 
motionless and dumb idol, the vile emblem of falsehood 
and corruption ; but do Thou, 0 Lord, hear me, a sinner, 
that this Emperor may know how vain is the hope he 
has placed in his idols, and that he ought to adore no 
other god but Thee alone.” 

When she had prayed thus, there was immediately a 
great earthquake, so that the whole city was shaken; the 
statue of the god shook, and fell to the ground ; in like 
manner the fourth part of the temple was destroyed, and 
overwhelmed a multitude of people, together with the 
priests of the idol.* 

The Emperor was terrified, and fled. Prisca said to 
him: “ Stay, Emperor, and assist; your Apollo is broken 
to pieces, and you may now gather up the fragments , 
moreover, his priests are destroyed in the same ruin; let 
him come now and assist them.” 

5. And the demon who dwelt in the idol cried out 
with a loud voice : " 0 virgin Prisca ! handmaid of the 

* “ Et hsec ea orante, statim terrse motus factus est magnus, ita ut 
civitas concuteretur et corrnit Apollo et comminutus est; simili 
modo quarta pars templi destructa est et oppressit multitudinein 
paganorum eum sacerdotibus idolorum.”— Acts- No. 4. 


296 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


great God who reigns in heaven, thou who keepest His 
commandments and hast stript me of my habitation !— 
I have lived here for sixty-seven years, and under Clau¬ 
dius Caesar twelve. Many martyrs have come and have 
not exposed me. Having under me ninety-three other 
most impious spirits, I order each of them to sacrifice to 
me daily fifty souls of men.* O Emperor, persecutor of 
the Christians ! thou hast found a holy soul, through 
whom thou wilt finish thy reign in disgrace.” These 
words were spoken with a loud voice and great la¬ 
mentation ; terrible darkness surrounded those who were 
present, and they went away in great trepidation and 
doubt. 

6. The Emperor, not understanding that it was by the 
divine power that the idol had been overthrown, ordered 
her to be buffeted on the face ; and when the execution¬ 
ers had beaten her for some time, they lost their strength, 
and cried out: “ Woe unto us sinners ! surely we suffer 
more than this girl : she is not hurt, and we are in pain. 
We beseech thee, 0 Emperor, to have her taken from 
us.” But the Emperor, enraged against them, ordered 
the face of the blessed Prisca to be beaten still more. 
Looking towards heaven, the holy virgin said— 

“ Blessed art Thou, O Lord Jesus Christ! for Thou 
givest eternal peace to those who believe in Thee." 
And when she had said this, she was surrounded with 
a bright light, and a voice from heaven was heard say¬ 
ing— 

“ Daughter, be of good courage and fear nothing, for 

* A similar thing is read in the Acts of Martina and Titiana, but 
we must remember it is the proud spirit of lies that is speaking. 
His authority is not worth much. 


THE ACTS OF ST PEISCA. 297 

I am the God whom thou invokest, and I will never 
abando n thee.” 

. After these things the Emperor was enraged almost to 
madness. 

7. The next day, sitting before his tribunal, the Em¬ 
peror said : “ Let that wicked little sorceress be brought 
in, that we may see some more of her charms.” 

When she was brought before him, he said to her: 
“ Will you consent to live with me, and sacrifice to the 
gods 1 ” 

But she firmly replied: “ Cease, most impious of 
men, and son of a satanic father ! Are you not ashamed 
to insult a helpless girl and ill-treat her thus, when you 
know she will never consent to sacrifice to your idols % ” 

Then the Emperor in a fury ordered her to be stript 
and to be beaten with whips. The child’s body appeared 
as white as snow, and so bright was the light that issued 
from her. that the eyes of the beholders were dazzled.* 
Whilst they were beating her, the holy virgin said : “ I 
have cried with my voice to the Lord, and He heard me 
in the combat of my passion.” 

The Emperor, hearing her pray thus, said: “ Do you 
think you will seduce me with your magic 1 ” 

But blessed Prisca answered: “ Thy father Satan is the 
prince of all darkness ; he loves fornicators and embraces 
magicians.” The Emperor then ordered her to be beaten 
with rods, but the Saint, hearing this new punishment, 
smiled and said : “ O unjust and impious man, enemy of 

* “ Tunc iratus imperator jussit expoliari earn et iterum caedi. 
Sancta autem videbatur Candida sicut nix, cujus splendebat corpus 
in tantum quod nitor claritatis ejus caligare faciebat respicientes in 
earn.”— Acts, cap. 11, No. 1. 


298 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


God and inventor of evils! you are too blinded to know 
the blessings you are procuring for me from the Eternal 
Creator.” 

8. Then Limenius, a relative of the Emperor, said to 
him : “ This contaminated child does not suffer these tor¬ 
ments on account of the glory of the Christians and the 
Crucified; but, like a shining ray of the sun, hopes to 
obtain everything. Let your majesty command her to 
be cast into prison until to-morrow, and have her be¬ 
smeared with the oil of fat, and let us destroy this 
brightness.” 

The Emperor immediately ordered her to be cast into 
prison until the following day. While she was being 
led to prison, she cried out with a loud voice before 
all the people, saying: “ I give Thee thanks, O my 
Lord Jesus Christ, and I implore Thy holy grace ; pre¬ 
serve me from this impious and impure Claudius, who 
despises Thy goodness.” During the whole night, the 
holy child was glorifying God in prison, singing hymns; 
and the voices of a multitude of persons were heard 
praising God along with her. When morning dawned, 
she was ordered to be let out of prison, but first to be 
smeared with oil and grease. But when Limenius was 
leaving the palace, he perceived a fragrant smell, as if 
the air were filled with the perfume of aromatics, and said 
to his companions : “ Do you not perceive the beautiful 
scent % ” 

But they replied : “ The gods have made this beautiful 
scent for the beloved Prisca, for they all say her own gods 
appeared to her during the night.” 

When they arrived at the prison, they found the blessed 
Prisea sitting on a throne, and surrounded by a multi- 


THE ACTS OF ST. PRISCA. 299 

tude of angels, whose brightness it would be impossible to 
describe. She held in her hand a tablet, and read these 
words: “ How great are Thy works, 0 Lord! Thou 
hast made all things with wisdom.” (Ps. ciii. 24.) 

But Limenius was terrified, and leaving the place, went 
to the palace to announce to the Emperor the great won¬ 
ders of God. The Emperor commanded her to be taken 
to the temple to sacrifice, and, in case of refusal, to be 
exposed to the wild beasts. Prisca continued to pray: “ I 
have run the way of Thy commandments, 0 Lord ; teach 
me Thy justifications, and I will learn the wonders of 
Thy divinity. Free me from the punishments of men, 
that I may keep Thy commandments.” 

9. The Emperor seeing her countenance more beautiful 
and cheerful than before, said to her: “ Hast thou listen¬ 
ed to good counsel, and consented to sacrifice to the be¬ 
nign gods 1 ” 

But she said to him : “ My conversion, Emperor, is 
complete ; thou wilt not persuade me to mingle in thy 
controversies, for I am freed from the impieties and se¬ 
ducing vanities of this world. I have received the com¬ 
mands of my Lord Jesus Christ. It is good for me to 
cling to Him, and place all my hope in Him, who contains 
all truth, to whom nothing is wanting, for He is omnipo¬ 
tent. The seduction of thy words are like arrows of dark¬ 
ness, that point out the way to eternal gloom. I rejoice 
rather in the death of the saints that surround me, and 
who have subdued thy father the devil.” 

10. The Emperor in anger said to her: “ You shall not 
die, Prisca, if you come and sacrifice.” 

But she said to him: “ Do you order me to enter the 
temple again 1 ” 


300 THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 

To which the Emperor said, “ Yes ; go in and sacrifice, 
that you may not be devoured by the wild beasts.” 

Prisca then said: “ By the grace of my Lord Jesus 
Christ assisting me, His humble servant, I will go in as 
you order.” 

But the demon who inhabited the idol, knowing that 
the holy child was coming to banish him, cried out with 
a loud voice : “Woe to me ! where shall I fly from Thy 
Spirit, O God of heaven 1 Fire is pursuing me from the 
four corners of the temple.” 

Prisca entered, making the sign of the cross, and point¬ 
ing to the statue of the idol, said : “ Emperor, look at this 
imposition: there are eyes that do not see, ears that do 
not hear, hands that do not feel, and feet that cannot 
walk—a statue decorated with contemptible vanity ; do 
you wish me to sacrifice to this ? ” 

The Emperor (not understanding what she meant) cried 
out: “May the gods live for ever! thou hast consented 
to my request.” 

But the blessed Prisca approached the idol, and poured 
forth a prayer to the Lord, saying: “ 0 Lord God, Eternal 
King ! Thou who stretchedst forth the heavens, and didst 
build up the earth ; Thou who settest limits to the waters 
of the ocean, and hast trampled on the Serpent’s head; 
Thou, O Lord, wilt not abandon me now; hear my 
prayer, and destroy this idol made by the hands of men, 
and used by the demon as an instrument full of deceit 
and malice ; and let Claudius by different punishments 
know that Thou alone art blessed in eternity. Amen.” 
Then she said with a loud voice : “ I command thee to 
depart, thou who dwellest in this deaf and dumb idol.” 
A noise as of thunder was immediately heard, and fire 


THE ACTS OF ST. PRISCA. 


301 


fell from heaven, which consumed the priests of the tem¬ 
ple ; a multitude of people were killed; the purple on 
the right arm of the Emperor was burnt, and the idol 
was reduced to ashes.* 1 Blessed Prisca said: “ Glory be 
to God in the highest, and peace on earth to men of good 
will.” 

11. After this the Emperor was enraged, and without 
adverting to the miracle which had taken place, or to the 
power of the invisible God, said to the prefect: “ Take 
this magician, and tear her whole body to pieces with 
sharp iron hooks, that she may no longer see the light of 
this world. I am full of confusion and shame, and know 
not what to do.” The prefect, taking her, went imme¬ 
diately into the prsetorium, and sitting on his tribunal, 
ordered them to bring in Prisca, saying: “Introduce that 
temple destroyer, that we may see what she will do.” 
Prisca entered the prsetorium smiling. 

“The prefect said, “You deride me, little sorceress, 
because you are still alive; by the most pure sun, I will 
cast your entrails to the dogs, and then we shall see if 
your Christ will have any comfort for you.’' 

The blessed Prisca replied: “ 0 impious man ! ought I 
not to deride the power of your Emperor, who has been 
conquered by a little girl through Jesus Christ, and then 
delivers me up. to you 1 ” 

The prefect said: “He is ruler, and has power to 
deliver you to me, that I may force you to sacrifice, or 
take away your life.” 

* “ Et mox tonitruum magnum factum estetcecidit ignis deccelo 
et combussit sacerdotes templi et multitudo populi mortua est, et 
imperatoris partem dexteram purpurse combussit, et idolum in favil- 
lamredegit.”— Acts, last lines of No. 10. 


302 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


Prisca said : “ I will not sacrifice ; torment me as you 
please.” 

Then the prefect ordered her to be stretched on the 
rack, and her limbs to be cut with small knives. Whilst 
they were tormenting her, she cried with a loud voice : 

“ 0 Lord Jesus, help me; to Thee do I fly for succour.” 

12. The enraged prefect ordered her to be cast into 
prison ; but she, binding up her holy body, and fortifying 
herself with the hair of her head, went quickly into 
prison. The prefect, mounted on a horse, repaired to 
the prison, and found the holy girl, as before, sitting on a 
high throne, and her beautiful face shining like the sun.* 
In amazement he left the place, and shutting the prison 
door, he sealed it with his ring, and leaving fifty men to 
guard it, went to the Emperor. Blessed Prisca was in 
the meantime glorifying God, and singing His praises, 
and there was a great light in the cell in which she was 
confined. The prefect found the Emperor in his palace, 
who, on seeing him, wondered, and said : “ What are you 
coming for ? ” 

He replied : “ As your majesty ordered me, I have tor¬ 
tured the wicked little Prisca with iron swords and hooks, 
and I have tried to kill her, but, behold, she is still-alive, 
and refuses to sacrifice. I have executed your commands; 
you must now consider what other punishment you will 
order to be inflicted on her.” 

The Emperor said to him : “ It is evident that she con¬ 
fides in her incantations. Let her be delivered to the 
wild beasts, that they may tear her to pieces.” 

The prefect was silent. 

* There is extreme brevity used in this portion of the Acts. Cir¬ 
cumstances that may have had days intervening are recorded as hap¬ 
pening in the same hour. 


THE ACTS OF ST. P RISC A. 


303 


13. When morning was come, he sent the executioners 
for her, and when she was brought in before him, he 
said : “ The Emperor commands you to sacrifice ; if you 
refuse, you are to be exposed to the wild beasts.” 

Blessed Prisca, with a countenance shining like the 
light of the sun, answered: “ In the name of the Lord 
Jesus Christ, who suffered for us who believe in Him, I 
am sure of conquering you.” 

Hearing this, the prefect was much irritated, and went 
to the Emperor, and said to him : “ I beg of your majesty 
to come with me to the amphitheatre : ” and they went 
towards it together. Then they had her cast between 
two wild beasts. 

Blessed Prisca said : “ Watch my sacrifice.” 

The prefect said, “ Behold, 0 Emperor, this sorceress 
who overthrew our gods ; may she be torn to pieces by 
the beasts.” 

Amongst the animals was a savage lion, which had not 
been fed for four days.* The Emperor, sitting on his 
throne, was overcome with sadness, and ordered Prisca 
to be led into the arena. When she entered the Coli¬ 
seum, a great noise was heard in the heavens which 
terrified the spectators. 

The Emperor said to her: “ Believe and consent to my 
wishes; avert the terrible calamity that is hanging over 
you; for I swear by the gods that I love you exceed¬ 
ingly.” 

The holy child raised her eyes to heaven, and said : “ 0 
Lord Jesus Christ, who hast manifested the knowledge 

* “ Erat autem et alius leo immanissimus qui quotidie comedebat 
septem oves. Hie non comederafc per dies quatuor, ut devoraret B. 
Briscam.” 


304 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


of Thy divinity, and crowned Thy saints with glory, pre¬ 
serve me perfect in this combat to-day.” Then turning 
towards the Emperor, she said : “ O miserable wretch! 
know that I would rather be devoured by beasts, that I 
may merit eternal life with Christ, than fall into the 
snares of eternal death by yielding to thy seductions.” 

The Emperor then ordered the most ferocious lion to 
be let loose to devour her. The lion was roaring in his 
den, so that he terrified all the people. His keeper let 
him out, and he entered the arena bounding and roaring ; 
then he walked towards the Saint, not showing terror but 
love, and leaning forward, he adored her, and kissed her 
feet.* The blessed Prisca, praying to the Lord, said : “ O 
God, Thou permittest me to combat like a criminal in 
this theatre of guilt, but Thou preservest my soul un¬ 
sullied and undefiled.” Then turning towards the 
Emperor, she said: “ You see, O Emperor, you have but 
manifested our power over tortures and wild beasts, 
because Christ, who made heaven and earth, and every¬ 
thing in them, is always victorious ; to Him everything 
is subjected by the will of His Father.” 

The Emperor, seeing the meekness of the lion, and that 
it showed the reverence of love towards the Saint, said 
to her : “ Humble yourself and acknowledge the gods, for 
they are helping you.” 

But Prisca replied : “ They cannot help themselves, 
how then can they help me ? In the name of my Lord 
Jesus Christ, by my combat, and by my martyrdom, they 
are annihilated.” 

* “ Et erat leo rugiens in cubili suo, ut omnes terrcret. Ille qui 
eum nutriebat aperiit leoni et egressus leo rugiit cursum arripiens 
et ambulavit ad Sanctam, non terrorem ostendens sed dileetionem et 
inclinans se adorabat, osculabatur pedes eins.” 


THE ACTS Of ST. PRTSCA. 


305 


The Emperor commanded the lion to be taken back 
to his den ; but, before he left the arena, he attacked 
one of the relations of the Emperor, and killed him. 
The enraged Claudius ordered the blessed Prisca to be 
cast again into prison ; she was filled with the grace of 
God, and said : “ Preserve me, 0 Lord, from the snares 
they have laid for me, and from the scandals of the 
workers of iniquity.” 

14. After three days the Emperor once more or¬ 
dered a sacrifice to be offered in the temple, and sent for 
the holy virgin. She came, and was resplendent as the 
sun. Claudius said to her: “ Believe and sacrifice, and 
you will be safe.” But she said : “ I do sacrifice, and I 
believe in Jesus Christ.” Then tne Emperor in anger 
ordered her to be suspended and torn with hooks. When 
she was drawn up, she said : “ Thou hast rejoiced me, 0 
Lord, in T by holy will, and I will delight in the works- 
of Thy hands; Thy judgments, 0 Lord, are true eternal 
light! ” Saying these things, immediately the arms and 
bones of those who were tormenting her were afflicted 
with the sharpest pain, so that they cried out to the Em¬ 
peror : “ Free us, we beseech thee, from these pains; the 
angels of God are tormenting us.” 

15. He then ordered her to be burnt by fire. The 
attendants did as they were told, and kindled an immense 
fire and cast her into it. With a loud voice she cried 
out: “ 0 Lord, Thou who lookest down from heaven on 
those who believe and seek after Thee, help me, Thy 
handmaid ! ” And immediately there came a great fall of 
rain and a furious whirlwind, which scattered the flames 
on every side, so as to burn those who stood round about. 


T 


306 


TEE MAETTKS O* THE COLISEUM. 


Bat the Emperor was exceedingly dejected because he 
was conquered by a little girL* 

16 . In his exasperation he ordered all her beautiful 
hair to be cot off And when the attendants had cot off 
her hair, she said : “ It is written by the Apostle, if a 
woman hare a beautiful head of hair, it is her ornament; 
you hare taken from me that hair which God has given 
me : God will take from yon your kingdom.” 

He then directed that she should be taken to the temple, 
and he shut the door, and having sealed it with his ring, 
departed to his palace. The holy child remained there a 
day and a night praising and blessing God. Although 
the Emperor and prints were wont to go to the temple 
every day, they would by no means go whilst the blessed 
Prises was there, for they heard the voices of a multitude 
of angels. Claudius said to these around him: u Oar god 
whom we worship is great, for he has assembled all the 
other gods to instruct and comfort Prisca. 5 * On the third 
day he ordered a great sacrifice of oxen to be prepared. 
When the crowd opened the doors of the temple, they 
saw the blessed Prisca, sitting on a throne, and surrounded 
by a great crowd of angels, whose beauty was ineffable ; 
but their god they saw lying on the ground.t The ter¬ 
rified Emperor cried oat: u Where is oar god ? ” To 
which Prisca said: “ Do you not see him reduced to 
dost?” 

* “ Et eki pinria facta est r.araa, et smifcas vetrd, et dispersa 
est magna fiazrana et racendit qm drcaiasiabant omnes. Imperaior 
astern Tilde tristi* era! qtda Tisceh&tsr a paella-*— AcU. Xo. 15. 

+ “ TcrLis asrtem apeziezries portam temp3i vice-rant B. Prl*eaai 
aedeafeem in sade et cum ea excxentem coeuma Angeloram quorum 
pddmtado eccrrari non potest; videraat aceexa cenm i ^ in m 
terras eeeiiisse. ~— AcU, Xo. id. 



THE ACTS Oh ST. PRISCA. 


307 


17. Then the Emperor, enraged beyond measure, 
ordered her to be led outside the city to be beheaded. 
The holy martyr Prisca, rejoicing, said : “ 0 Lord Jesus 
Christ, Redeemer of all, I praise Thee, I adore Thee, I 
beseech Thee, I implore Thee, who hast liberated me from 
all the evils intended for me. Save me now, O Lord 
Jesus Christ, with whom there is no acceptation of per¬ 
sons ; perfect me in the confession of Thy name; order 
me to be received into Thy glory, that I may happily 
escape the evils by which I am surrounded ; and reward 
the impious Claudius according to his works towards Thy 
helpless handmaid ! ” And having said this she turned 
towards the executioners and addressed them thus: 
“ Fulfil the orders you have received.” And thus did the 
blessed Prisca end her life by the sword ; and a voice 
was heard from heaven, saying : “Because thou hast fought 
for My name, Prisca, enter into the kingdom of heaven 
with all My saints.” And when this was said, the exe¬ 
cutioners fell on their faces and died.* 

18. Then it was announced to the Bishop of Rome by 
a Christian who watched in concealment, how they led 
the blessed Prisca along the Ostian Way, to about the 
tenth milestone, and there beheaded her, and took away 
her life. The Bishop, having heard this, went with him 
to the place he mentioned, and they found her body 
between two eagles, one at her head and the other at her 
feet, guarding it, lest the beasts should touch it. There 
was a dazzling light round her head, and her face smiled 

* “ Et ita finivit vitam B. Prisca per gladmm; et vox de coelo 
facta est, dicens, Quia certasti pro nomine meo, Prisca, ingredere 
in regnum ccelorum cum omnibus sanctis ; et, facta hac voce, oar- 
ninces ceciderunt in facies suas et mortui sunt.”— Acts, No. 17. 


308 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


in the Holy Spirit.* Then the Bishop himself and his 
companion dug a grave, and buried her in that spot. 

19. When the Emperor heard all these things, he was 
struck the same day with terrible grief in his heart, and 
like a rabid dog ate his own flesh,t and groaning and 
trembling, he cried: “ Have pity on me, thou God of the 
Christians ! I know I have transgressed Thy precepts, 
0 Christ, and blasphemed Thee; I have persecuted Thy 
name, and have ungratefully sinned against Thy hand¬ 
maid. I am justly afflicted by Thee; Thou rewardest 
me as I have deserved.” He expired, convulsed and 
writhing in agony, and a terrible voice was heard saying, 
“ Enter, Emperor, into the furnace of hell; go to ex¬ 
terior darkness, for gloomy places of pain are prepared 
for thee.” There was a great earthquake, and there 
believed that day, of those who were in Borne, on account 
of the voice that was heard from heaven, more than five 
thousand, not counting women and children.;}; The mar¬ 
tyrdom of the blessed Prisca took place on the 18tti day 
of January. 

20. After a short time, the faithful of Christ built a 

* “ Tunc episcopus, hoc cum audivit, ambulavit cum ipso qui ei 
nuntiaverat, et ibi earn invenerunt jacentem, unam quidem aquilam 
sedentem ad caput ejus et aliam ad pedes custodientem corpus ejus, 
ne a feris tangeretur. Caput vero lucidum splendida facie risit in 
Spiritu Sancto.”— Acts, No. 18. 

+ “ Percussus est dolore cordis eadem die, et, sicut rabidus canis, 
cames suas comedebat.”— Acts, No. 18. 

Z “ Ingredere, imperator, in clibanum Gehennse; vade in tenebras 
exteriores, tibi enim praeparata sunt tenebrosa pcenarum loca. Fac- 
tus est autem terrpe motus magnus, et crediderunt in eadem die, 
de iis qni erant in urbe Roma, pro voce quas facta est de ccelo, 
numero plusquam quinque jnillia, exceptis parvulis et mulieribus.” 
—76. 19. 


THE ACTS OF ST. PPJSCA. 


309 


church in this place, and served God in it night and day. 
Her venerable body remained here until the consulate 
of Antonius (A.D. 275), when her burial-place was re¬ 
vealed to the most reverend and Holy Pope Eutychian, 
who gathered together the priests and faithful, and 
having prepared a sarcophagus of wonderful beauty 
went in procession to the spot. They dug up the earth 
and found it. With great devotion and reverence they 
raised the most holy and blessed body of Prisca, virgin 
and martyr; and singing hymns and sacred canticles, 
they took it to the city, and deposited it near the Eoman 
arch in the church of the martyrs Aquila and Prisca, 
praising and glorifying God, who is in heaven, to whom 
is all honour and glory, who liveth with God the 
Father in the unity of the Holy Spirit through all ages. 
Amen. 

The Acts of St. Tatiana, as narrated by the Bollandists, 
are precisely similar to those of St. Prisca. Whether 
they were two different saints, or the same called by an¬ 
other name, is doubtful. However, following the learned 
judgment of Papebrochius, we believe St. Tatiana was in 
reality another of the heroines of the Coliseum. She has 
a distinct festival in the Eoman martyrology on the 12th 
of January. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

CUIRYSANTHUS AND DARIA. 


1 . 

<v(f^HRYSANTHUS was the son of a senator from 
Alexandria named Polemius, -who went to Rome 
during the reign of Numerian (a.d. 282), and was 
immediately enrolled in the senatorial body of the im¬ 
perial city. Tiie father and son were pagans, but that 
inscrutable Providence, which St. Paul compares to the 
potter, who destines some vessels for honour and some 
for dishonour, cast the light of faith into the heart of 
Chrysanthus, and made him not only a Christian, but a 
noble martyr of the Church of God. He was a young 
man, of ardent temperament, and whilst gifted with a 
powerful mind, was passionately fond of study. He went 
through all the systems of philosophy known in those 
days, studied eloquence under the first masters, and ere 
yet he stood on the threshold of manhood, his mind was 
developed by science and erudition. These pursuits were 
incompatible with the indulgence of the baser passions of 
nature, and Chrysanthus was virtuous without his know¬ 
ing it. Almighty God looked on him with complacency, 
and by His divine grace brought him to the knowledge 


CHRYSANTHUS AND DARIA. 


311 


of the Christian faith. The means employed for his con¬ 
version were such as are common even in our days. 

In his ardent thirst for knowledge, he read every book 
that came in his way. He had heard of the Christians. 
The wonderful things related of that persecuted sect 
roused his curiosity to the highest pitch. Their virtue 
and patience in suffering,, and their extraordinary love 
for each other, struck the intelligent mind of the noble 
youth with amazement and delight. In a short time a 
few books of the Christians, and a copy of the sacred 
Scriptures, were put into his hands. He read them with 
avidity. Light was beaming from every page ; an unac¬ 
countable feeling of peace calmed his troubled heart. 
Night, noon and morning, he was wrapt in the study 
of that true philosophy which emanated from Eternal 
Wisdom itself. He wondered he had lived so long with¬ 
out knowing it—so sublime, so simple, so perfect, so 
beautiful, so terrible; like the child’s first vision of the 
ocean, no language could tell all he felt. 

Chrysanthus became a Christian. He was led by the 
guidance of a supernatural power to an old hermit, named 
Carpophorus, and was instructed and baptized. After 
his baptism, his mind was filled with the light of heaven, 
and his heart glowed with the fire of zeal for the con¬ 
version of souls; he longed to impart to others the joy 
that filled his own soul. In eight days after his baptism, 
we find him preaching in the public piazzas, as fearless 
as the Apostles when they came forth from the Coenacu- 
lum of Jerusalem to commence the great work of the 
world’s conversion. Numbers were converted by his 
powerful discourses; but it pleased God that he should 
glorify His Church by his sufferings. 


312 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


His father learned with rage that he had embraced 
Christianity. Like all pagans, he thought nothing was 
more mad or impious than to preach that a crucified man 
was the true God. He seized Chrvsanthus and locked 
him up in a room in his own house ; and endeavoured, 
by harsh treatment, to force him to return to the worship 
of the gods. He allowed no one to see him, and only 
gave him food once in the day ; but the young man was 
happy, and unflinching in his resolution; he treated his 
cruel father with respect and reverence. Some days 
passed in this way, when the evil spirit, finding he was 
immovable in his faith, laid a wicked and dangerous snare 
for his virtue. 

A friend J of the senator Polemius came one day to see 
him. He found him sad and afflicted on account of the 
failure of his efforts to overcome his son’s resolution. 
Polemius opened his mind to his friend, and asked his 
advice. A more insidious, wicked counsellor he could 
not have found; the devil seemed to have employed him 
to plot the ruin of Chrysanthus. 

“ If you wish to change the resolution of your son,” 
said the stranger, “ try him with pleasures rather than 
privations ; tempt him with youth and beauty; pleasure 
will make him forget he is a Christian : you must know 
these trials which you inflict on him are considered by 
the Christians more honourable than painful.” 

Polemius thought this good advice, and determined 
to act upon it. He prepared his triclinium with the 
most beautiful hangings, loaded the tables with costly 
viands, and selected a number of handsome females, 
whom he dressed in gorgeous style ; and when he had 
prepared everything that could please the senses or gratify 


CHRYSANTHUS AND DARIA. 


313 


the passions, he introduced the holy youth, hoping first 
to destroy his virtue, and then find an easy victim in his 
faith. Chrysanthus entered the triclinium in surprise, 
for he did not know what his father intended. A thous¬ 
and lights were reflected from crystal lustres, the walls 
were hung with priceless tapestry, and the odours* of the 
most delicious viands mingled with the perfumes of the 
most beautiful flowers. Round the circular table were a 
number of females reclining ; they were lewdly dressed, 
and represented the goddesses of pagan mythology; they 
were fanning themselves in luxurious ease, and seemed 
to be awaiting the arrival of the principal guest of the 
evening, who was Chrysanthus. When he entered, they 
all rose to pay him homage, ijie musicians played, and 
incense was burned. The holy youth looked round him 
in amazement; suspicion passed in a moment to convic¬ 
tion ; he saw that a snare was laid for him. He had 
scarcely entered the room when his father slipped from 
behind him, left the room, and suddenly closed the door, 
fastening it with a heavy bolt. 

Chrysanthus prayed in his heart for strength, for he 
knew he could not be continent unless the Lord assisted 
him. His prayer was heard, and all the allurements and 
temptations of the devil fell like spent arrows on the 
shield of his faith. The Almighty worked a strange 
miracle in his behalf. He was scarcely left alone in the 
room, and had breathed a short prayer to the Most High, 
when all the females fell into a sound sleep. He stood, 
as it were, in the midst of a solitude, and kneeling apart 
in the magnificent chamber, gave his soul to the sweet joy 
of communion with God. 

His father and the attendants were surprised at the 


314 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


sudden silence that had come over the banquet-hall— 
not a whisper, not a move, all was still as death. At 
length, overcome with curiosity, Polemius stealthily 
opened the door, and looked in. He was struck with 
terror and amazement. The girls, musicians, and slaves, 
were lying on the benches or on the floor, as if dead, and 
Chrysanthus was kneeling, wrapt in prayer, in a corner of 
the room, with his arms crossed upon his breast. Was 
it a dream 1 was it magic % or was it a stratagem, or¬ 
ganised by the cleverness of his Christian son, to trifle 
still further with his wishes and turn him to mockery 1 
He was thunderstruck, and stood in fear and doubt on 
the threshold of the triclinium. He called all his domes¬ 
tics and attendants to look at the strange scene. Some 
wept because they thought the girls were dead; others 
fled in terror and called all the friends of the family; 
the house became a scene of confusion, whilst all was as 
calm as a tomb in the triclinium. 

At length, after a day and a night had passed, the 
friends of Polemius assured him that it was all produced 
by magic and the black arts, which Chrysanthus had 
learned from the Christians; and after much deliberation, 
they determined to enter the room, and remove the fe¬ 
males. When they brought them outside of the tricli¬ 
nium they immediately awoke; they were unconscious 
of what had happened, and wished to return to the ban¬ 
quet which they had not yet touched. They returned 
in spite of all remonstrance, and had scarcely entered the 
door wjpen they fell down asleep again. Whilst some 
were amused and others were terrified, the devil was pre¬ 
paring another trial to shake the virtue of Chrysanthus. 

Amongst the friends of Polemius there was a venerable 


CHRYSANTHUS AND DARIA. 


31S 


old man, much esteemed for liis learning and prudence. 
Taking the senator aside, he said to him: “ Polemius, I 
see through the dark arts of thy son; he has been an apt 
disciple of Christian magic, and now he finds it easy to 
exercise his skill on those simple and weak girls ; but as 
these arts have no power over noble and educated minds, 
let us seek an intelligent, handsome person who can rea¬ 
son with him, and become his wife. I know one amongst 
the virgins of Minerva; she is young, beautiful, and in¬ 
telligent. The beauty of her countenance and the 
powers of her mind will surely triumph over Chrysan- 
thus.” 

Polemius consented. He was so deeply biassed 
against Christianity that, if even the meanest unfortunate 
from the low lupanars of the city could have succeeded 
in withdrawing his son from the practice of virtue, he 
would have received her into his family, and made her 
heiress to the title and wealth of his senatorial rank. 
There were only two crimes in the category of the old 
senator : they were Christianity and cowardice in battle. 

We will leave for a moment Polemius and his aged 
friend devising the best means to ruin the noble Chry- 
santhus and invite the reader to a different scene in ano¬ 
ther part of the city. 

Amongst the peculiarities of pagan worship, it was 
usual for females to dedicate themselves in a particular 
manner to some goddess. They had gods, both male and 
female, to express every tendency of the mind ; every 
passion and every desire were personified in some divin¬ 
ity. Those things which are now-a-days the occupation 
of the leisure hours of the fair sex, such as music, poetry, 
needlework, &c., were in € the days of the Eoman Empire 


316 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM . 


works of religious homage offered to an imaginary tute¬ 
lary divinity. The votaries of the different goddesses 
assembled together from time to time in the vestibules 
of their respective temples. These gatherings always 
terminated with a splendid banquet, to which their 
friends of the male sex were invited. Amongst the vir¬ 
gins of Minerva, as they were called, there was one of 
those naturally virtuous, noble, generous souls, whom we 
must now introduce to the reader as the heroine of this 
interesting historical record. 

Her name was Daria. She was just in the dawn of 
womanhood, and surpassed all her companions in beauty 
and grace. From her girlhood (she was probably at this 
time sixteen) she had enrolled herself among the lovers 
of Minerva, which was considered in those days an act 
of great merit and virtue. Noble and generous, she was 
beloved by all; and in the dramatic representations com¬ 
mon amongst children even in those remote times, she 
was invariably elected to take the part of Pallas Minerva. 

One morning Daria went with her companions to the 
vestibule of the temple of Pallas Minerva. Antiquarians 
pretend to be able to point out the very spot. It was 
not far from the Coliseum. Perhaps the reader of these 
lines may have been to Rome, and may have remem¬ 
bered passing in the Via Alessandria (leading from the 
forum of Trajan to the Coliseum) the remains of a splen¬ 
did portico of beautiful and rich carving, and the columns 
nearly buried in the earth. It is called by the people in 
the neighbourhood, Le Colonnacce. In Murray’s “Guide 
to Rome,” they are spoken of thus:—“ These columns 
are more than half buried in the earth; their height is 
estimated at thirty-five feet, ancl their circumference at 


CHRYSANTHUS AND DARIA. 


317 


eleven. They stand in front of a wall ot poperino, on 
which the capital of a pilaster is still visible. The frieze 
is richly ornamented with sculptures representing the 
arts patronised by Minerva. In the attic above the two 
columns is a full-length statue of that goddess, and 
among the figures on the frieze are females weaving, 
others weighing the thread or measuring the webs, others 
again carrying the calathus; and a sitting veiled figure o l 
Pudicitia ” (page 39). 

Here it is most probable the young girls of the Minerva 
school were accustomed to meet, to assist each other in 
the study of the fine arts as represented on the beautiful 
frieze of the portico, the only existing remnant of the 
magnificent temple itself. Daria was gay and cheerful, 
and surrounded by a number of her companions, when 
the senator Polemius and his aged friend mounted the 
steps of the portico, and called her aside. Humble and 
unassuming in her thoughts, she was thunderstruck when 
she heard they had come to make her the spouse of 
Chrysanthus. She was not entitled to this position by 
birth or fortune, and she almost doubted the sincerity of 
the proposal; but finding Polemius was really in earnest, 
for he entreated her with tears in his eyes, she thanked 
Minerva for her good fortune, and calling a faithful slave 
who always accompanied her, she hurried away to the 
house of the senator, without even telling her compa¬ 
nions of the strange freak of fortune that was about to 
raise her from her humble position to be mistress in one 
of the first families of Eome. Bright were the castles of 
future bliss she painted before her happy mind, as she 
tripped gaily along by the side of the aged men. Little 
she thought of the designs of an all-seeing and loving 


318 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


Providence, that was leading her from darkness to light, 
and was preparing for her joys and delights more beauti- 
ftii and lasting than even her vivid fancy could paint. 

Arrived at the palace of Polemius, they found the 
bustle and noise of the last few hours had subsided. 
Crysanthus had his copy of the Holy Scriptures brought 
to him in the triclinium, and was deeply engaged in study 
when his father returned. The girls endeavoured to dis¬ 
suade Daria from going into the apartment, but she, 
apparently through confidence in her charms, but more 
truly led on by a supernatural influence, determined to 
discharge the commission given to her by his father, to 
offer herself to him as his bride. They dressed her out 
in the most gorgeous manner; jewels and diamonds of 
priceless worth sparkled on her snowy breast, and her 
beautiful hair was plaited with flowers and gold; the 
rouge of beauty and health on her cheeks required no 
artificial tint, for nature had given charms no art could 
imitate; the proud and wealthy Cleopatra, of Eastern 
fame, would have changed places with Daria. The sena¬ 
tor embraced his old friend, and thanked him that he had 
recommended such a beautiful girl to become his daugh¬ 
ter. 

But Daria was made for heaven ; a few hours will 
find her an angel. When she entered the triclinium, con¬ 
trary to the expectation of all, she was not overcome 
with sleep; even Chrysanthus arose, received her kindly, 
and bade her be seated. He prayed for a moment in his 
heart, and then drawing near, he addressed her in these 
words: “ Illustrious and beautiful virgin, if it be for the 
sake of a short-lived union with me, and to induce me, 
who am inflamed with the love of another, to abandon 


CHRYSANTHUS AND DARIA. 


S1& 


my resolution, that you have recourse to these costly 
ornaments and beautiful dresses, you are greatly deceived. 
Would you not rather seek the love of the Immortal Son 
of God h Nor is such a task difficult if you wish it; for 
if you preserve your body and soul free from stain, then 
the angels of God will caress you, the Apostles and mar¬ 
tyrs will be your friends, Christ Himself will be your 
spouse, and He who is all-powerful will prepare for you a 
chamber of unsullied gems in His everlasting kingdom, 
He will preserve immortal the flower of your youthful 
beauty, and will inscribe your name for a rich dowry in 
the book of life.” 

Daria was much moved at these words. The shame 
of being considered a mere harlot roused the noblest 
feelings of her heart. The earnestness with which 
Chrysanthus spoke, and the sublime and mysterious 
promises of happiness without end, made her fling to the 
ground the mask of deceit and hypocrisy with which she 
thought to win his affections ; her answer was noble and 
sincere. 

“ Believe me, Chrysanthus ! ” said she, excitedly, “ it 
was not the allurements of a base passion that brought 
me before you. I was urged, by the tears of your father, 
to bring you back to your family and the worship of our 
gods.” 

“ Well, then,” said Chrysanthus, “ if you have any 
arguments by which you can induce me to change my 
resolution, I will patiently listen to you ; let us calmly 
weigh these things for our mutual advantage.” 

He drew nearer to her, and they commenced a very 
interesting and philosophical conversation, which we will 
give in an abbreviated form from the Acts, as in Surius 
(October 28) 


320 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


“ Nothing,” said Daria, “ can be more useful or neces¬ 
sary to man than religion. When we neglect this primary 
duty of our existence, we should fear to excite the anger 
of the gods.” 

“ And what worship, most wise virgin,” asked Chry- 
santhus, “ should we give to the gods ? ” 

“ That worship,” she answered, “ which will induce 
them to protect us.” 

“ How can they protect us, whilst they themselves re¬ 
quire the protection of a dog, lest they should be plun¬ 
dered by nocturnal thieves, and who have to be fastened 
to their pedestals by iron nails and lead, to prevent them 
falling and being broken to pieces 'i ” 

“ That is very true,” replied Daria, “ but if the unlet¬ 
tered multitude of men could worship without images, 
there would be no necessity for making them; now, in¬ 
deed, they are made of marble and silver and bronze, 
that worshippers may see with their own eyes those whom 
they should love, venerate, and fear.” 

. “ But let us consider a moment,” said Chrysanthus, 
“ what is said of those images, that we may see if they 
are worthy of our adoration. Certainly, you would not 
consider that person or thing a god which does not show 
any external proof of glory or sanctity. What signs of 
probity has the sword-bearing Saturn, who killed his 
own children the moment they were born, and devoured 
them, as his own worshippers have written of him 1 
What reason have you to praise Jove himself, who has 
committed crimes,homicides, and adulteries, equal in num¬ 
ber to the days of his life; plotting the ruin of his 
father; the murderer of his children, the violator of 
matrons, the husband of his own sister, the usurper of 


CHRYSANTEUS AND DARIA. 


321 


kingdoms, and the inventor of magical arts 1 Since 
writers accuse him of these and similar impieties, not fit 
to be mentioned, how can you call him, and believe in 
your heart that he is a god % What more absurd, noble 
virgin, than to deify kings and generals, because they have 
been powerful and brave in deeds of war, whilst the very 
men who worship them saw them die like other mortals % 
What cause for divinity do you find in Mercury, whom 
poets and artists love to represent with the heads of pigs 
and monsters and outstretched wings ; by whose magic 
arts the hidden treasures of the earth are discerned, and 
the poison of snakes destroyed, and yet he performs all 
his wonders by the power of demons, to whom he daily 
sacrifices a cow or a cock; are not such the fables 
told of him 1 Where is the sanctity of Hercules, who, 
fatigued in saving others from fire, at length by his own 
divine inspiration cast himself into the flames, and miser¬ 
ably perished with his club and his skin ? In Apollo 
himself what virtue have you, either in his Dionysian 
sacrifices, or his intemperance and incontinency 'l It re¬ 
mains for us now to speak of the royal Juno, the stupid 
Pallas, and the lascivious Venus.” 

Daria started, for she had never heard her beloved 
Minerva called stupid before. 

“ Do we not find them,” continued Chrysanthus, firmly, 
“ proudly disputing amongst themselves which is the 
handsomest 1 Are not the works of poets and historians 
full of the wars and miseries brought on the human race 
on account of the slighted beauty of one of these vain 
goddesses 1 Since, then, none of these persons are worthy 
of divine honour, in whom will the human race, borne by 
the natural impulse of nature to religion, place its confi* 


322 


THE MARTYRS 01 THE COLISEUM. 


dence, to worship as its god 1 Not surely in the minor 
gods, for they are but the slaves of the others. Does it 
not come to this, then noble virgin, if the greater 
and more powerful gods are so miserable and so impious, 
much more so will those be who worship them.” 

It might be thought that the power and eloquence of 
this address would have immediately overcome all the 
prejudices and vain confidence that Daria hitherto felt in 
paganism, but she was gifted with an intelligent and 
brilliant intellect, and her reply to the invectives of 
Chrysanthus was not only apt and beautiful, but rendered 
the debate extremely interesting, and henceforward 
deeply philosophical. 

“ But you are aware, Chrysanthus, that all these things 
are but the fictions of the poets, and not worthy of the 
consideration of serious minds. In the school of our 
philosophers, where prudent men treat of things as they 
really are, the gods are not clothed with the vices you 
mention ; their power and providence are expressed by 
symbolic names, which have given origin to fancies of 
poetry. Thus, allegorically, time has been called Saturn ; 
Jupiter is another term for heat and light, and the vivi¬ 
fying power of nature ; Juno is interpreted to mean air; 
Venus, fire; Neptune, the sea ; Ceres, the earth ; and 
so on with the rest. Do not these things serve us ? a^e 
they not worthy of honour 1 ” 

“ If these things be gods,” said Chrysanthus, earnestly, 
“ why then do you make images of them, and worship the 
representations of things you have always present ? The 
earth is never absent, fire is always at hand, the air sur¬ 
rounds us everywhere and always. How strange you 
should adore the images of those things, and not the 


CHRYSANTHUS AND DARIA . 


323 


things themselves ! What king or ruler would order his 
people to despise himself, but to honour and adore his 
statue 1 Weigh for a moment the folly of this theory. 
Those who worship the earth, because of their veneration 
for its divinity, should endeavour to show in their man¬ 
ner respect and honour due to the goddess. Should they 
tear her to pieces by ploughs and spades, and trample her 
ignominiously under foot 'i There are others who deny 
she is a goddess at all, and lacerate her sides with ploughs 
and harrows, and show contempt rather than respect; 
yet, to which of these does she open her bosom with the 
abundance of her harvests and delicious fruits 1 To him, 
indeed, who blasphemes and outrages her great divinity. 
If she were really a goddess, would this be so 1 Thus the 
fisherman, who goes to sea to catch fish, despising its 
divinity, prospers better than the fool who stands on the 
beach to adore Neptune in the roaring billows. So with 
the other elements. They are directed by the divine, 
providence of one great God, who created them for the 
benefit of man. They form but the parts of one great 
work, and are dependent on one another. The earth 
brings forth its harvests and its fruits ; but take away the 
light of the sun, the moistening rains, and the refreshing 
dews, and it becomes barren and worthless. The sea rolls 
its mighty tide from shore to shore, and bears on its bo¬ 
som the commerce of nations; it obeys fixed laws, and 
proclaims the power and glory of its Creator. He, then, 
who created the sun, the earth, the sea, the air, and ani¬ 
mates all nature with the vitality of reproduction, is 
alone worthy of honour, reverence, and worship. The 
scholar does not reverence the letters or books of the pre¬ 
ceptor, but the preceptor himself. The sick man does not 


324 THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 

praise the material drugs that cure him, but the genius 
and skill of the physician. Thus, noble virgin, since 
those things which you mention as divine are inanimate 
and dependent, there must be another power to act on 
them, and animate them—that power is God! ” 

Daria was converted. Chrysanthus had scarcely 
finished his last sublime argument, when she threw her¬ 
self at his feet, and begged to be instructed in the know¬ 
ledge of the true God. While he was speaking, her heart 
was the battlefield of contending powers; vanity and 
self-love had built their castles in her mind, and a deep 
seated prejudice seemed to have closed all the avenues of 
conviction; but the Almighty, who influences, but does 
not force, the free-will, sent to her aid the powerful agents 
of reason and grace. The eloquence of Chrysanthus, far 
more skilled in knowledge than the young girl who ven¬ 
tured to reason with him, and the sweet, invisible 
promptings of divine grace, made her a willing captive to 
the gospel of love. 

2 . 

Almighty God, having brought these two souls to the 
knowledge of the truth, destined them to be vessels of 
election to proclaim His glory, and procure the salvation 
of many souls. When Daria declared her willingness to 
become a Christian, Chrysanthus and herself entered into 
a holy alliance ; they adopted a pious stratagem for their 
mutual benefit and the salvation of others. It was agreed 
they should pass as man and wife before men, vowing 
their chastity at the same time to God. By this strata¬ 
gem, Daria was allowed to go to her own house to pre¬ 
pare for baptism, and Chrysanthus was set free by his 


CHRYSANTHUS AND DARIA. 


325 


father. There were great rejoicings at his supposed 
return ; and Polemius gave a magnificent entertainment 
to his friends. Chrysanthus went every day to see Daria, 
and as soon as she was prepared she was baptized, 
together with her mother, by the holy Pope Cajus. Im¬ 
mediately after her baptism, she received from the hands 
of the holy father the veil of virginity, after which, the 
Acts say, “ She was a most holy virgin." 

The fire of their zeal communicated itself to every one 
that came in contact with them ; through the same means 
by which they themselves were converted, many others 
were induced to give up the follies of paganism and em¬ 
brace the Christian faith. Numbers of young people 
gave up the world and embraced chastity. Chrysanthus 
instructed the men, and Daria the women. The devil 
could not suffer this good to continue, and consequently 
raised a storm which brought them to the crown of mar¬ 
tyrdom. 

There were some wicked young men in the city, who 
had been casting evil eyes on some of the girls converted 
by Daria. Maddened by their loss, and instigated by 
the devil, they went to the prefect of the city and re¬ 
ported that, through the machinations of the persons 
named Chrysanthus and Daria, their betrothed wives 
were stolen away from them, and cajoled into the hated 
sect of Christianity. (Clamant adolescentes se deponsuras 
sibi mulieres amisisse, &c.) Some women also said the 
same of Chrysanthus, and the prefect Celerinus ordered 
them to be seized at once, and if they would not sacrifice 
to the gods, to be put to the torture. Claudius, a tribune 
of the soldiers, and a man in great repute on account of 
his magical skill, was deputed to see these orders exe- 


326 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


cuted. It was a happy event for himself and his soldiers, 
as the sequel of our narrative will prove. He handed 
Chrysanthus to his brutal soldiers, with permission to 
torment him as they pleased, until he should consent to 
sacrifice. 

It would be impossible to describe the innumerable 
tortures and insults offered to this noble youth, who re¬ 
joiced to imitate our blessed Lord in His sufferings as 
well as in His patience. They dragged him with vio¬ 
lence to a temple of Jupiter outside the city walls, and 
here they tried every species of pain and indignity to in¬ 
duce him to sacrifice. Amongst other things they pro¬ 
cured some thongs of skin and moistened them, then tied 
them as tight as they could round his arms and legs, 
hoping that when the wet leather should dry, it would 
so contract as to cut into the very bones ; but the moment 
they had wound them round the Saint, and skilfully 
knotted them, they broke and fell to the ground in 
pieces. 

They then led him back to the city and cast him into 
a most vile prison, and tried to bind him again with a 
triple cord, .which fell from him in like manner. They 
attributed all this to magic, and one soldier more impious 
than the rest, threw some filthy water over him, saying, 
to the great amusement of his companions: “ Now your 
magical arts will no longer be of any use to you ; ” but, 
instead of a disagreeable smell, there came a sweet odour 
as if they had sprinkled him with rose-water. He was 
next put naked into the skin of a calf, and left in an open 
square, to be worried by the dogs and scorched by the 
burning heat of the sun. But the servant of God suffered 
no inconvenience from this infliction—the dogs came 


CURYSANTHUS AND DARIA. 


327 


near, snuffed the breeze as though some strange scent 
impregnated the air, and then retired quickly as if they 
had been beaten. Nor was his skin cracked or browned, 
but after a day and a night, during which they left him 
in this state, taking their turn in guard to watch him 
he was found more cheerful and more beautiful than be¬ 
fore. They wondered exceedingly, and once more led 
him to prison, and hastened to tell Claudius, their tri¬ 
bune, all that had happened. 

Claudius came in person to witness the wonders ; and, 
in the pride of his heart, thought he could explain to his 
ignorant soldiers the process of magic by which miracles 
were wrought. When he arrived at the prison, they 
found it illuminated as if a thousand lamps hung from 
its gloomy walls, and a most beautiful odour came forth 
like the breezes that pass over a garden in spring. Claudius 
ordered the Saint to be brought before him; and, sur¬ 
rounded by his rude veterans, he haughtily addressed the 
servant of God in these words— 

“ By what power do you perform these wonders 1 I 
have subdued all sorcerers and magicians, but I have 
never come across so much art as yours. As you seem 
to be an illustrious and wise man, all we will ask of you 
is, to renounce the wicked assembly of the Christians, 
who excite sedition and tumult in the Boman people; 
sacrifice to the omnipotent gods ; and preserve yourself 
in the dignity of your birth aud fortune.” 

Chrysanthus was praying in his heart for the conver¬ 
sion of this well-meaning but ignorant tribune. Assum¬ 
ing a tone of independence, and with a gentle reproof, 
the Saint replied— 

“If you had but one spark of prudence you would 


328 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM . 


openly declare what you have partly confessed ; that it 
is not by magic I do these things, but by the power of the 
great God. You see me in the same manner as you see 
your own gods; yet if you confess the truth, you will ac¬ 
knowledge they have not even the power of hearing or 
seeing that we have. You have a spirit within you that 
animates your body and gives you intelligence. What 
are these things you call gods but dust and lead ? ” 

Blasphemy against the gods of the Empire was severely 
punished by the old Roman law; and Claudius, who 
heard them ridiculed by Chrysantlius, felt at the moment 
the truth of what he said. Nevertheless, yielding to the 
first impulses of his pagan heart, he ordered the Saint to 
be stripped and flogged. Rods as hard as iron were 
brought to inflict the severest punishment on him, but 
the moment they touched his flesh they became soft as 
paper. When the tribune saw this miracle he was greatly 
moved; grace which had been knocking at his heart 
found admission, and he ordered the Saint to be unbound 
and clothed again. Every one was silent whilst the sol¬ 
diers were dressing Chrysantlius; they wondered what 
the tribune meant by treating him with such lenity, or 
what species of trial he was preparing to shake the con¬ 
stancy of the servant of God. But Claudius commanded 
silence and attention, and then solemnly addressed them 
in these words— 

“ You are aware, brave soldiers, that I understand all 
charms and magical arts; this man, I see, does not per¬ 
form these wonders through any magical art, but through 
the assistance of the divine power ; you have seen how 
the bonds with which we bound him were broken ; he 
has been exposed to the sun without any inconvenience, 


CHRYSANTHUS AND DARIA . 


S29 


and his fetid prison was turned into a chamber of light 
and perfume, and now the rods of the hardest wood be¬ 
come soft as paper when used against him. Wherefore, 
since in these things there appears sincerity and truth, 
what remains for us but that we prostrate ourselves at 
his feet, asking pardon for the iniquities we have com¬ 
mitted against him, and beg him to reconcile us to that 
God whose followers are victorious in every war 1 ? Just 
as this man conquers us, so would he overcome all the 
rulers and emperors in the world.” 

When he spoke thus, Claudius and all his brave sol¬ 
diers knelt around Chrysanthus, and the noble tribune 
spoke for his companions in arms, and said aloud : “ We 
know, holy youth, your God is the true God, and we 
beseech you to tell us something of Him, and reconcile 
us to Him.” Chrysanthus wept for joy. His prayer was 
short and silent, but powerful ; immediate and abundant 
was the response. That day he baptized the tribune 
with his wife and children together, and a whole cohort 
of soldiers. He passed some days in peace in the house 
of Claudius, instructing his neophytes, and preparing 
them for the trial their young faith would soon have to 
suffer. 

In the meantime intelligence was brought to Numerian 
of what had happened. He commanded that Claudius 
should have a stone tied round his neck, and be cast into 
the sea, and all the soldiers that would not sacrifice to 
be beheaded. God infused so much grace into their 
souls, that they vehemently desired to die for His sake; 
the two sons of Claudius confessed themselves Christians, 
and suffered a glorious martyrdom ; so also all the sol- 
diers bravely exchanged a miserable life in this world, 


330 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


for an eternal and happy existence in the blissful kingdom 
of God. 

There happened to be, in the - place where they were 
executed, an old monument appropriated by the Chris¬ 
tians and used for a little church. It was on the Via 
Maura, and not far from the city. The Christians buried 
in this monument the bodies of Claudius and his soldiers. 
Hilaria, who was still alive, came here frequently to pray, 
and with many tears she besought our Lord to take her 
with her husband to the enjoyment of His presence. 
One day, when some pagans were passing, they discovered 
her praying, and knowing her to be a Christian, they re¬ 
solved to seize her and take her before the Emperor. 
When they came toward her for this purpose, she begged 
of them to allow her to pray for one moment longer, and 
then she would go with them wherever they pleased. 
They consented, and she went into the interior of the 
monument, and stretching her arms towards heaven, she 
asked of Almighty God to save her from shame and the 
terrible trial she would have to suffer for the faith. God 
heard her prayers. When the pagans had waited a few 
minutes they became impatient, and going in to seize 
her, they found her on the ground lifeless. Her happy 
spirit had flown away to realms of bliss. The pagans 
were frightened and fled. Two of Hilaria’s handmaids, 
who had been near, and were watching unobserved the 
whole proceedings, respectfully buried their good mistress 
in the same tomb beside her martyred husband and 
children. 

But let us return to the heroes of this sketch. As it 
was known that Chrysanthus was the cause of the extra¬ 
ordinary conversion of the legion of Claudius, direr pun- 


CHRYSANTHUS AND DARIA. 


331 


ishment was reserved for him. He was cast into the 
Mamertine prison, whilst they consulted as to what kind 
of death he should be put. The Acts say this was a 
most deep, gloomy, and horrible prison; he was naked 
and bound with massive chains from head to foot. 
Nevertheless the light, the odour, and the joy that had 
heretofore brightened all the dungeons that were sancti¬ 
fied by his presence, did not abandon him in the Mamer¬ 
tine prison. Chrysanthus felt more happiness and more 
honour in being cast into the prison of SS. Peter and 
Paul than if they had declared him Emperor. 

We must now retrace our steps for a moment, and 
watch the fate of the noble and beautiful Daria. As 
was ever the case in those days of infamy, the first tor¬ 
ment inflicted on the Christian maiden was that suggested 
by demons of hell—the lupanar. On the morning Daria 
was seized, she was brought before the Emperor himself on 
account of her surpassing beauty. The Acts pass over 
the interview, but it is evident that the noble contempt 
with which this pure soul despised the allurements and 
promises of the Emperor, brought on her his terrible in¬ 
dignation, and, in a fit of rage, he ordered her to be ex¬ 
posed in the most public lupanar in the city. This was 
under the arches of the Coliseum. Whilst Chrysanthus 
was performing wonders and baptizing hundreds of souls 
j\u one part of the city, Daria was the heroine of the most 
stupendous miracles under the arches of the amphitheatre. 
That Power which never abandons the helpless maiden 
unwillingly cast amongst the impious, knew how to pre¬ 
serve Daria. We will record the miracle of her preserva¬ 
tion in the precise words of the Acts. 

“ But to Daria aid was given by a lion which had fled 


332 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


from the arena—having entered the chamber where she 
was exposed and praying, he placing himself in the middle. 
The citizens, unaware of this, sent unto the virgin a most 
impious and false young man. But immediately he en¬ 
tered, the lion flew at him, threw him to the ground, and 
as he trampled on him, looked towards the virgin of Christ 
that she might order him what he was to do with the 
youth. Perceiving wlrnt he had done, holy Daria said 
to the lion : 4 1 beseech you, by the Son of God, that you 
permit him to hear what I have to say.’ Then the lion, 
having left him free, watched at the door lest any one else 
would come in. 

“Then Daria said to the youth: ‘You see the very 
ferocity of the lion, having heard the name of Christ, 
worships God ; but you, unhappy young man, gifted with 
reason, are plunged into so many crimes and impieties ; 
you boast and glory in those very things you ought to be 
ashamed of.’ But the young man prostrated himself at 
her feet, and began to cry out: ‘ Let me but depart safe, 
and I will preach to everybody that the Christ whom you 
adore is the only true God.’ Daria then ordered the lion 
to let him pass. And when the lion had left the door, 
he rushed through the streets crying out in a loud voice 
that Daria was a goddess. 

“ After this, when some daring men came from the arena 
to seize the lion, he, by divine power, cast every one of 
them to the ground, and held them at the feet of the holy 
virgin, not doing them any harm. Daria then said to 
them : ‘ If you believe in Christ, you may go away in 
safety; but if not, let your own gods free you.’ But 
they cried out with one voice: ‘ He that does not believe 
Christ to be the living and true God, let him not go out 


CHRYSANTHUS AND DARIA. 


333 


of this place alive !' And when they had said this, they 
went away crying out: 1 Believe, 0 Homans ! there is no 
God but Christ, whom Daria preaches/ 

“ Then Celerinus, the praetor, ordered fire to be applied 
to the chamber where Daria was exposed. Seeing the 
fire, the lion was afraid, and showed signs of ahrrm by 
roaring. But Daria said to the beast: ‘ Be not afraid ; 
you will not perish by fire, nor will you be any more 
captured nor killed, but you will die a natural death. 
Cease then to fear, but go away in peace, for He whom 
you have honoured in me will protect you.’ Having 
bowed his head, the lion went away, and passing through 
the middle of the city, no one touched him. All those 
who were saved from his mouth were baptized,” (Surius, 
Oct. 28). 

When all these things were announced to Numerian, 
he ordered Pontius, a praetor, to force Chrysanthus and 
Daria to sacrifice to the gods, or to put them to death by 
the severest torments. When the praetor had advised 
them, and tried in vain to make them sacrifice, he ordered 
Chrysanthus to be suspended in the armoury. But the 
instrument was instantly broken to pieces, and the torches 
were extinguished. Those, on the other hand, who 
touched Daria were struck with fear, and suffered 
intense pains. The praetor, seeing these things, went 
quickly to the Emperor to tell him; but he, attributing 
them to magical arts, and not to divine interference, 
ordered 'them to be buried alive in a pit outside of the 
Salarian gate. His orders were obeyed, and it was the 
will of Almighty God that His servants should thus win 
their crown and come to Himself. Chrysanthus and 
Daria were led out of the city followed by a great crowd, 


334 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


and when put into the large pit they sung a hymn to¬ 
gether. They were overwhelmed by the stones and earth 
which the pagans cast on them, and finding their death 
and their grave in the same spot, they passed away united 
in spirit to the eternal nuptials of the Lamb of God. 

Soon after their martyrdom, their tomb became the 
scene of stupendous miracles and innumerable con¬ 
versions. The people flocked thither in fearless crowds, 
so that it became publicly spoken of, and Numerian 
ordered his soldiers to remove every vestige of the tomb, 
so that the Christians could not assemble there in future. 
The soldiers came one morning after the celebration of 
the holy mysteries, and rushing on the congregretion put 
a great many to death. Among those who thus fell on the 
tomb of the martyrs was the priest Diodorus, the deacon 
Marianus, and the clerics, and many whose names are 
not known. 

The Acts of these great saints conclude with these 
words :— 

“We, Varinus and Armenius, brothers, have written 
these things as they happened, by the orders of the most 
holy Pope Stephen, and we have sent (these Acts) to 
every city, that all may know that the holy martyrs, 
Chrysanthus and Daria, have received the crown of mar¬ 
tyrdom in the celestial kingdom from God ; to whom be 
glory and power, now and for evermore.” 



CHAPTER XIX. 

THE PERSECUTION OF DIOCLETIAN. 

S HE persecution of Diocletian was by fat the severest 
and most general of all the persecutions of the 
Church. A countless number of martyrs was sent 
to heaven, and the Church commenced, in the midst of 
all the cruelties and horrors of this visitation, that glori¬ 
ous career of triumph which diffused her influence and 
carried the blessings of the faith far beyond the limits 
of the great Roman Empire itself. The opening of the 
fourth century beheld the battle between herself and the 
powers of this world ; she triumphed, and holds to this 
day the power she gained. Before quoting any of the 
Acts of the glorious martyrs of this reign who suffered in 
the Coliseum, we will give our readers an outline of this 
terrible persecution ; how it was brought about, and the 
happy consequences that followed. 

We will not tarry over the strange vicissitudes of for¬ 
tune that placed such a man as Diocletian at the head of 
the Roman Empire. He was a slave, and born of a slave, 
and won his honour as a brave barbarian in the ranks of 
the army. He was named General by Probus, and on 
the death of Carinus was declared Caesar by his own 
troops. His character was a compound of ignorance, 


336 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


pride, avarice, and cruelty. Superstition, which is ever 
the characteristic of weak minds, found its home and tri¬ 
umphed in his wicked, cowardly heart. He believed in the 
oracles, and had implicit faith in all they said. A strange 
coincidence gave him great reverence for these pagan de¬ 
lusions. A Gaulish Druidess told him, whilst he was 
yet a general, that he would become Emperor when he 
had slain a boar. He assassinated with his own hand the 
murderer of Numerian, and was soon after declared Em¬ 
peror ; this, he thought, was the fulfilment of the prophecy. 
It was the oracle of Apollo, as we shall see further on, 
that made him persecute the Christians. 

Diocletian had a friend. He was an ignorant, low-born 
soldier, named Maximian, whom blind fortune had also 
favoured, and from being his companion in the army, he 
was raised to be part ruler in the Empire. Ignorant and 
cruel like Diocletian, he was a meet instrument in the 
hands, of the powers of darkness, who were preparing for 
a tremendous onslaught on the Church of God. They 
divided the Empire between them. Diocletian preferred 
the luxury of the East, and left to Maximian the ill-fated 
West. 

Strange to say, in the first years of Diocletian all was 
sunshine and calm in that part of the Empire which lie 
retained for himself. Eusebius, in his eighth book, gives 
a glowing description of the prosperity of the Church in 
those regions. Whilst it is perfectly certain that Diocletian 
mistrusted and even hated the Christians, he seems to 
have refrained from molesting them though fear. Their 
numbers at this time were immense ; public indignation 
against them had more or less subsided; the political 
disturbances of the last four years had turned the pagan 


THE PERSECUTION 01 DIOCLETIAN. 357 


mind towards passing events, whilst the ever-watchful 
and ever-active spirit of faith, taking advantage of the 
calm, walked abroad in search of souls, and publicly 
preached the gospel of the Lord. A few months’ tranquil¬ 
lity was sufficient for the prostrate Church to rise from 
its ruins. The moment there was a lull in the storm of 
persecution, thousands were seen thronging round the 
cross, and catechumens and neophytes swelled the ranks 
of the Christians that were decimated during the struggle. 
Thus when Diocletian came to the throne, nearly half 
of the Empire were Christians. The Church of the East 
was particularly flourishing. Led on by the Basils, the 
Gregorys, and a host of martyred heroes, it had already 
struck its roots too deep in the soil to be blighted by 
this most terrible persecution the Church ever suffered. 
*Evcn in Nicomedia, which bore the central shock of the 
tempest, she was only concealed when Diocletian and 
Galerius thought she was annihilated. So flourishing 
were the Christians, that even the wife and some of the 
children of the Emperor had embraced the faith,* and 
many of the officials of the imperial household openly 
professed Christianity. 

“ How so much glory and liberty were given to us 
before this persecution,” says Eusebius, “ I cannot ex¬ 
plain. Perhaps it was the benignity of the Emperor, 
who even committed to us the care of provinces, re¬ 
moving all fear of having to sacrifice to the gods in com 
sideration of the esteem in which he held our religion. 
What use is it to speak of the numbers in the imperial 
palaces, their wives, their children, and domestics, to 

* This fact is now doubted through statements made in the newly 
discovered work, De Morte Persecutorum. 

V 


338 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM . 


whom he gave liberty of openly worshipping God 1 Who 
could describe the innumerable crowd of men who daily 
flocked to the faith of Christ, the number of churches 
in every city, and the crowds of illustrious persons who 
gathered into the sacred edifices of the true God ? The 
old churches were no longer sufficient, but new and larger 
ones were raised from their foundations. Thus our holy 
faith progressed more and more every day, in spite of the 
malignity of demons and the plottings of wicked men, 
whilst the Lord deemed us worthy of the protection of 
His right hand.” * These last words of the great his¬ 
torian are ominous, for he is but writing his introduction 
to the most terrible of his oft-told tales of death and 
persecution. 

Although Eusebius speaks in the strongest terms of 
the general peace of the Church, and the apparent 
partiality of the Emperor, we must not forget that 
Diocletian was a hypocrite, and acted in those first years 
of his reign with toleration towards the Christians rather 
through a low, cowardly policy, than through real favour 
and indulgence. In certain parts even of the provinces 
reserved to himself, the persecution raged with more or 
less violence, according to the pleasure of the governors, 
and in virtue of the unrepealed edicts of Aureiian, still 
in force against the Christians. In the province of Egea 
in Licia, and in the first year of his reign (285), we read 
of the martyrs Claudius, Asterius, Neone, and their com¬ 
panions. There are monuments which show that the 
persecution still raged in other provinces.t All this 

* Eusebius, Hist. Eccl., lib. viii. cap. 1. 

+ Bollandists, August 23. Also in Tillemont, tom. v. Perse¬ 
cution de l’Eglise sous Dioeletien, art. 2. 


THE PERSECUTION OF DIOCLETIAN. 339 

must have been known to Diocletian ; he permitted the 
persecution, where he could have so easily prevented it. 
However, this hypocrisy was a virtue compared to the 
bloodthirsty cruelty of his later years. 

We must turn our eyes for a moment to Maximian. 
This wretch, raised so unexpectedly to the purple, set no 
bounds to his passions. He hated the Christians even 
more than Diocletian. One of his first acts was to put 
to death in Gaul a whole legion of Christian soldiers. 
They were the best and bravest soldiers in his army, and 
amounted to more than six thousand.* They were sent 
specially from the East to assist him in quelling distur¬ 
bances of a formidable character. All over the West, the 
noblest and richest were brought to the axe to satiate 
the cruelty and avarice of this monster. 

Nevertheless, the Church was advancing on every side, 
and Eusebius does not hesitate to call these days a calm. 
But, alas ! that calm had an evil effect on the Church; 
the rigidity of the ancient morals became relaxed, and 
disorders were gradually creeping in. “ The quiet 
liberty,” says Eusebius, “ granted to us by the Lord, that 
we might attend more tranquilly to the observance of 
His precepts, was abused by us. There crept among us 
the spirit of envy and ill feeling; an intestine war raged ; 
the weapons with which we sought to injure each other 
were our detracting tongues; fraud, falsehood and 
hypocrisy were usurping the control of the actions of 
men, and the scourge was already taken into the divine 
hands. We saw it fall somewhat heavily on those who 
served in the army, yet we were so callous to every 

* See Euinart, Acta S. Mauri et Sociorum. 


340 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


warning of the gospel, that we did not endeavour by 
timely penance to avert from ourselves the threatened 
storm, which we saw gathering around us. Like blind 
and foolish people, who did not imagine that human 
events are directed and ordained by a superior Providence, 
for its own wise ends, we continued to tempt God by 
adding new and deeper crimes to our former guilt. At 
length, Almighty God, according to the prediction of 
Jeremias, covered the daughter of Sion with confusion, 
and cast to the ground the celestial glory of Israel, and in 
the day of His anger the Lord did not remember the 
footstool of His feet.” * 

The powers of darkness seemed to have measured 
every step, and to have advanced cautiously before com¬ 
ing down with all their fury on the sleeping camp of 
Israel. Another monster in human shape is sent on 
earth to have power; he surpasses either of the reigning 
Caesars in villany, cruelty, and sin of every kind. This 
man was Galerius. 

Diocletian, in whom timidity and fear had become imbe¬ 
cility, conceived the idea of dividing the Empire into two 
more parts. The constant disturbances of the barbarians 
who threatened on every side, and even some internal re¬ 
volts, induced this short-sighted Emperor to adopt this 
suicidal policy. His idea was to nominate two additional 
Caesars, who would have full power to defend and rule their 
relative districts, without bearing the name of Emperor. 
For this purpose he nominated Constantius Chlorus, a 
man of noble birth and deserving qualities, and Galerius, 
the son of a peasant, a soldier of fortune, but a tyrant 
and a bitter enemy of Christianity. 

In the first chap, of eighth book, as quoted above. 


THE PERSECUTION OF DIOCLETIAN, 341 

For some years Galerius was occupied in quelling the 
disturbances on the frontiers of the Empire. Through 
the prayers oi the Christian soldiers in his army, he 
gained a complete triumph over the Persians. His pride, 
of course, was keeping pace with his fortune, and he 
returned so puffed up with his greatness, that he despised 
his benefactor, and determined to be Emperor himself. 
His mother was still alive. She, too, was cruel and super¬ 
stitious ; the only education she gave her son was hatred 
of the Christians. On the return of Galerius from the 
East, she had scarcely embraced him when she com¬ 
menced to revile the Christians, and commanded her son 
to persecute them. 

Galerius ruled in the province of Illyrium, and here 
he first drew his sword against the Church. He com¬ 
menced with his own household, and then with the army.* 
The slaves of his impious mother were burnt at the 
kitchen fires, whilst she herself looked on like a fury, in 
brutal glee. In the army, the first officers in power were 
ordered to put the Christians to death, but finding they 
were too numerous, and that two-thirds of their number 
would be destroyed, the order was modified, and only a 
few of the most remarkable were executed; at the same 
time all the others were debarred from any promotion or 
emolument arising from the service. When we say a few 
only were martyred, they were few compared to the great 
number who survived ; nevertheless they may be counted 
by thousands. In the Acts of St. Andrew, who was 

* “ (Galerius Maximianus) diu ante reliquos imperatores, Christi- 
anos qui in exercitu militabant ac prsesertim eos qui in palatio suo 
versabantur, per vim abducere a religione sua conatus est, &c.— 
Euseb,, cap. xviii. 


342 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


tribune of a legion in the army of Galerius, we read that 
he was martyred about the year 300, together with three 
thousand companions.* But prudence restrained the 
sword of Galerius, and forbade the blow he intended to 
strike—the hour destined by Providence had not yet 
arrived, but was coming fast. 

For four years he had desired the total extermination 
of the Christians. He knew by experience that they 
went like lambs to the slaughter ; that they neither mur¬ 
mured nor revolted against the unjust sentence. With 
fiendish malice he conceived the idea of procuring a simul¬ 
taneous and universal persecution throughout the entire 
Empire, to sweep for ever from the face of the earth the 
hated name of Christian. To effect this, he saw that an 
edict from Diocletian was necessary. He set out for 
Nicomedia, where Diocletian was residing, and did not 
leave till he had effected his purpose. 

This was in the year 302. Nevertheless, Diocletian 
trembled at the thought of a wholesale slaughter of the 
Christians. His natural timidity tortured his mind with 
pictures of revolts, and insurrections, and civil war which 
might hurl him from his throne. Notwithstanding 
the supernatural warnings of his dreaded oracles, the 
ceaseless entreaties of Galerius and his impious mother, 
Diocletian feared to take the terrible step, and delayed, 
while he could, to sign the fatal edict. Galerius, seeing 
entreaty failed, assumed the haughty tone of defiance, 
and Diocletian at length consented, if the oracle of Apollo 
should recommend it. A seer was sent to the oracle, 
and a bribe from Galerius brought back the answer that 
the Christians were hostile to the gods. The die was 


* Bollandists , 19th August. 


THE PERSECUTION OF DIOCLETIAN 


343 


cast. The month, the day, and the hour were named, 
when the three demons should be unchained, and the 
Church of God cast into desolation and woe. The Terminal 
Games, which were celebrated every year with great pomp, 
were at hand, and the first day of these games, the 23d of 
February 303, was selected for the commencement of the 
persecution. Messengers were despatched to the 
governors of the provinces to be in readiness, to prepare 
the rack, the furnace, and the sword for the servants of 
Christ. Many of them rejoiced at the prospect of this 
feast of blood. The extermination of a hated sect was 
ever welcome, but the hope of boundless wealth from the 
murdered Christians pouring into their coffers, and in¬ 
creased favour with the august Caesar, produced in their 
corrupted hearts a zeal and a co-operation in the terrible 
cause that rendered this persecution not only the most 
general, but by far the most destructive, that ever passed 
over the Church. 

The Christians knew the hour of trial was coming. 
Persecutions were not inaptly compared to the storms 
on the deep, and the Church was the little bark of Peter 
that was to brave the raging elements. There were 
signs in the heavens that told of the approaching struggle ; 
their future was dark and gloomy, like the horizon when 
the storm is coming up. The voices of the pastors rang 
through the churches like the shrill whoop of the seagull 
breasting the rising surges, and giving its well-known 
storm-cry. The women and children were sent to the 
cabins of the Catacombs for safety, whilst every loose 
spar was lashed to the bulwarks, and every sail was 
reefed. The bishops had gathered their trembling flocks 
together, and addressed them with a fervour and elo- 


344 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


quence which made them martyrs in desire before the 
axe of the executioner brought them their crown. Whilst 
brave youths, with hearts of oak, like Sebastian and Pan- 
cratius, remained in the cities to bear the brunt ot the 
fight, and to encourage their weaker brethren, tender 
maidens of noble blood, like Agnes and Prisca, buried 
themselves in the solitude of country villas, and prayed 
with fluttering hearts, like frightened doves sighing in 
their cots. The anticipation of evil is often more painful 
than the stroke itself. Before the terrible edict was promul¬ 
gated many churches were abandoned, and the altar and 
sacrifice were removed to the private room of some obscure 
Christian, or to the archisoliums of the Catacombs. The 
timid Marcellinus was the pilot of the Church during the 
commencement of the storm—even he lost courage in the 
fury of the tempest; he abandoned the helm for a mo¬ 
ment, but claimed it again like Peter, and sank at his 
post. The pious matron Lucina had given her garden 
and villa outside the Porta Capena for a new cemetery, 
and as far as the time permitted, the Church in Rome 
was girded for the struggle. 

At length the bloody edict is ready. A copy is sent 
from Nicomedia to Rome and Illyrium. Galerius, the 
prime mover of the persecution, so longed for the dawn 
of the dreadful day, that he determined to keep its vigil. 
The Christians had built a beautiful church on a hill that 
looked down on the city of Nicomedia. It could be seen 
from the windows of the palace where the Emperor lived. 
Scarcely had the morning of the 23d of February dawned 
when a troop of soldiers was sent to destroy the church. 
They seized everything that was inside—books, furniture 
and some vestments—and burned them in the piazza ; 


THE PERSECUTION 01 DIOCLETIAN . 345 

then with yells and shouts, they levelled the building to 
the ground. The Emperor and Caesar were enjoying the 
scene from a window in the palace, and rewarded the 
soldiers on their return for their noble and brave conduct. 
The next morning the parchment scroll that announced a 
crown of eternal glory for thousands of the chosen children 
of God was hung on the marble columns of the Forum of 
Nicomedia. 

The edict should have been published at the same time 
throughout the Empire, but through some secret jealousy 
of the Senate, it was deferred in Rome until the 15th of 
the Kalends of May. The haughty Senate still clung to 
the rights of its original institution, and flattered itself 
that its nominal power was a reality. Nevertheless, like 
a dismantled and abandoned fortress, it cast its proud 
shadow on the plain as in the days of its glory, and im¬ 
peded for a while the fall of the uplifted sword. But the 
demon was not to be robbed of his prey. The Roman 
mob were accustomed to obey his suggestions, and were 
willing agents for every insult offered to the true God. 
It was in one of the paroxysms of brutal excitement that 
the terrific shout which had so often echoed through 
the benches of the Coliseum was made to resound through 
the Circus Maximus. Infuriated myriads of the dregs of 
the people rose as if with a simultaneous impulse, and 
shouted : “ Cliristiani tollantur ! ” “ Away with the 

Christians,” was twelve times repeated by a chorus of a 
hundred thousand blood-thirsty voices. This was followed 
by cries, ten times repeated, of “ Death and extermina¬ 
tion to the Christians! ” Wherefore, it was agreed by 
the Senate that a persecution should be declared against 
the Christians, and it was decreed accordingly. (See Acts 
of St. Sabinusin Baronius, under the year 301.) 


346 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


In Nicomedia, a wealthy Christian gentleman was pass¬ 
ing through the Forum on the morning the edict was 
published. In the excess of his zeal he imprudently 
tore it to pieces, and scattered it to the wind. He was 
seized, and was roasted to death at a slow fire before the 
palace of Diocletian.* Galerius raged with more fury 
than ever; revenge and desperation gave a deeper dye 
to his natural cruelty. The first edict was too lenient 
for his purpose, and he will have another, written in 
characters of blood. The author of the “ Death of the 
Persecutors of the Church ” tells us how he procured the 
second edict. 

“ By the assistance of some confidents, he set fire to 
the royal palace. As soon as the conflagration was dis¬ 
covered, the agents of the impious Emperor commenced 
to cry out aloud that the Christians were the cause of the 
fire, and were the enemies of the sovereign ;• so that the 
flames of infernal hatred against the Christians burned 
more furiously in the hearts of the Gentiles than the 
material flames that were devastating the imperial dwell¬ 
ing.” (De Morte Persecutorum, cap. xiii., also in Baronius, 
A.D. 201.) 

Another and another edict followed the first they 
were more sweeping and more terrible than any law ever 
before published. They were directed in a particular 
manner against ecclesiastics, churches, sacred writings, 
and virgins. Horrible to relate, one of the enactments 
of these edicts was, that every young girl that would not 
sacrifice was to become public property, t But the light- 

* In the Martyrologies of Ado and Usuardus this man is called 
John, and is commemorated on the 7th of September. 

*t See Acts of St. Theodora, April; also Tillemont, vol. v. art. 19; 
also Baronius, Anno 301, Mo. 31 and following. 


THE PERSECUTION OF DIOCLETIAN. 347 

nings of God were ever ready to defend His helpless 
spouses; and wherever they attempted to put this im¬ 
pious law into execution, death and j udgment were the 
immediate issue. The machinations of the wicked Galerius 
did not cease here. Seeing the success of his first strata¬ 
gem, fifteen days had scarcely passed, when he set fire 
again to the imperial palace, and throwing the blame on 
the Christians, made Diocletian believe they were incen¬ 
diaries who wished to burn him alive in his own palace. 
Galerius fled in trepidation, as he said he was not safe 
whilst there was a Christian in the palace. All these 
plans had the desired effect on the weak-minded Diocle¬ 
tian, and from being a mere instrument in the hands of 
his colleague, he became the most terrible enemy of the 
Church, and surpassed, if such were possible, the cruel¬ 
ties of the other two. 

‘‘His fury against the Christians,” says Lactantius, 
“ had now reached the highest; he no longer persecuted 
a few, but every one and everywhere. He first obliged 
Valeria, his daughter, and Prisca, his wife, to contami¬ 
nate themselves with the Gentile sacrifices. He put to 
death his favourite eunuchs, who had the direction of the 
whole court and the immediate service of his own person; 
priests and other ministers were seized and slaughtered 
without any trial, and men and women of every age were 
subjected to the most cruel torture. The number of the 
accused being great, they were put to death in crowds. 
Immense fires were kindled around them, and thus con¬ 
sumed them together. The Emperor’s domestics were flung 
into the sea with stones round their necks. In all the 
temples of the gods, there were placed judges, whose sole 
business was to make the people sacrifice ; the public 


34S 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM . 


prisons were full, and every new and unheard-of torture 
was tried to pervert the Christians or tear them to pieces.” 
(As above, chap, xiv.) 

The war of extermination is now fully declared, and 
the battle is raging over the whole Empire. The province 
of Gaul was the only spot that escaped its fury. It was 
at this time under Constantius Chlorus, the father of 
Constantine the Great. He was just, and unprejudiced 
against the Christians, and where he could, he prevented 
wholesale murder and slaughter. Some of the governors 
under him confiscated the goods of the Christians and 
occasionally put them to death; yet Gaul was spared 
the terrible horrors of the other portions of the Empire. 
The descriptions of this hour of trial left us by Lactan- 
tius, Eusebius, and the immortal Basil,* would fill volumes 
—volumes that would be sacred in the eyes of the Church, 
for in showing the virulence and universality of the per¬ 
secution, they declare the glory ar^ greater triumph of 
that divine institution which has survived it, and stands 
on the rock of ages as indestructible to-day as when the 
impious Galerius sought to annihilate it. 

Everything that human and demoniacal malice could 
suggest was tried for the extermination of the Christians. 
“ It was, moreover, proclaimed,” writes a holy martyr 
quoted by Eusebius in his eighth book, “ that no one 
should have any care or pity for us, but that all persons 
should so think of and behave themselves towards us as 
if we were no longer men.” The eloquent Basil, in one 
of his sublime panegyrics on the Christian martyrs, says : 

* Eusebius and Lactantius were eye-witnesses ; Basil saw the 
effects of the persecution, for he flourished in the first half of the 
fourth century. 


THE PERSECUTION OF DIOCLETIAN. 


349 


‘ The houses of the Christians were wrecked, and laid in 
ruins ; their goods became the prey of rapine, their bodies 
of ferocious lictors, who tore them like wild beasts, drag¬ 
ging their matrons by their hair along the streets—callous 
alike to the claims of pity for the aged, or those still in 
tender years. The innocent were submitted to torments 
usually reserved only for the vilest criminals. The dun¬ 
geons were crowded with the inmates of Christian homes 
that now lay desolate; and the trackless deserts and the 
forest caves were filled with fugitives whose only crime 
was the worship of Jesus Christ. In these dark times 
the son betrayed his father, the sire impeached his own 
offspring, the servant sought his master’s property by de¬ 
nouncing him, the brother sought a brother’s blood—for 
none of the claims or ties of humanity seemed any longer 
to be recognised, so completely had all been blinded as if 
by a demoniac possession. Moreover, the house of prayer 
was profaned by impious hands; the most holy altars 
were overturned ; nor was there any offering of the clean 
oblation, nor of incense; no place w^as left for the divine 
mysteries ; all was profound tribulation, a thick darkness 
that shut out all comfort; the sacerdotal colleges were 
dispersed; no synod or council could meet for terror of 
the slaughter that raged on every side ; but the demons 
celebrated their orgies and polluted all things by the 
smoke and gore of their victims.” (Orat. in Gordium 
Mart.) 

Lactantius says : “ The whole earth was afflicted and 
oppressed; and three wild beasts of the most brutal char¬ 
acter roared from east to west in their rage to devour the 
Christians. If I had a hundred tongues and a hundred 
mouths, if my voice were of iron, I could not relate the 


350 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


horrors of the Gentile cruelty, nor the names and quality 
of torments they used against the Christians ” (De Morte 
Pers., cap. xvi.) 

To find out the Christians, they had recourse to some 
malicious but ridiculous stratagems. Besides the court 
spies, whose name was legion, it was enacted that idols 
should be erected in all provision shops, so that not 
even the necessaries of life could be purchased without 
sacrificing to the demons. Every piazza, every fountain, 
every bakehouse, and every butcher’s stall, had its little 
statue of some fabulous god, a pan of fire and a box of 
incense. Those who wished to buy must first burn some 
incense to the idol, and an officer of the government 
stood by to insist on the absurd homage intended for the 
demons. To such excess did they carry the rage for 
sacrifice, that old men who had not left their homes for 
years were dragged to the public squares to burn incense, 
and tender infants in their mothers’ arms were made to 
join in this blasphemous mockery of the true God.* 

If we were to recount the terrible sufferings of the 
Christians under the new and unheard-of tortures (as 
Lactantius calls them) invented by the persecutors, we 
should fill pages of horrible scenes that would send a cold 
thrill through every vein of our bodies. They would 
surpass everything the cruellest fancy ever imagined. 
Fire, water, iron, and the brutal strength of incarnate 
demons lent all their combinations to produce pain, to 
burn, to tear and destroy ; the highest science was to 
kill by the slowest tortures. The shame of being stript 
before brutal mobs was more painful to Christian youths 
of both sexes than the scourge of the rack. There was 

* St. Optatus Milivitus, lib. i. and iii. 


THE PERSECUTION OF DIOCLETIAN . 351 

as little pity or mercy for the tender girl of eight years 
as for the old man of eighty. 

To increase the horrors of these days the mangled 
bodies of their victims were deprived of burial, and often 
left for days in the public squares, or thrown into the 
fields outside the cities, to be devoured by dogs or birds 
of prey. Orders were issued to have these bodies guarded 
day and night, lest the Christians should take them away 
and honour them. “ You might have seen,” says Euse¬ 
bius, “ no small number of men executing this savage 
and barbarous command ; some of whom, as if this had 
been a matter of high concern and moment, watched on 
a tower, that the dead might not be stolen away. Also 
the wild beasts, dogs, and birds that prey on flesh, 
scattered here and there pieces of human bodies; and 
the whole city was strewed round about with men’s 
bowels and bones, so that nothing seemed more cruel 
and horrid, even to those who before had been our ene¬ 
mies. All persons bewailed, not so much the calamitous 
condition of those on whom those cruelties were prac¬ 
tised, as the opprobium cast on themselves and mankind 
in general.” No wonder such barbarities should wring 
tears from the hardest marble, for Eusebius continues to 
record in the same chapter one of the most extraordinary 
miracles related in his history of the early Church:— 

“ After these horrible barbarities had been practised 
for many days together, the following miracle took 
place. The weather was fair, the atmosphere was clear, 
and the whole face of heaven most serene and bright; 
when on a sudden, from all the columns that supported 
the public galleries throughout the city, there fell many 
drops in the form of tears, and the Forum and streets 


352 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM.- 


(no moisture having been distilled from the air) were wet 
and bedewed with water from some unknown source; 
insomuch that a report was immediately spread amongst 
all the inhabitants, that the earth, unable to bear the 
horrid impieties then committed, did, in this inexplicable 
manner, shed tears, and that the stones and senseless 
matter wept at what was done, in order to reprove the 
savage and brutal propensities of man. I make no doubt,” 
continues Eusebius, “ but that this will be looked on as a 
fabulous and ridiculous story by future generations; but 
they did not account it such who had the certainty there¬ 
of confirmed to them by the authority of the times in 
which it happened.”* 

This was a strange phenomenon ; but no matter how 
it may be accounted for, the very interpretation put on 
it by the pagans themselves must ever remain to attest 
the moral triumph achieved by the Christians over the 
minds and sympathies of their persecutors. 

It would be impossible to make even an approximate 
calculation of the numbers that were massacred during 
this persecution. For ten long years the storm blew 
over the Empire, and whilst the blood of thousands 
flowed in a continuous stream from the public scaffolds, 
a much greater number perished in the deserts, or in the 
unhealthy caves of the earth. From an ancient catalogue 
published by Papebrocliius, it appears that in one place, 
during the lapse of thirty days, fifteen thousand were 
put to death. Eusebius calls them “ an innumerable com¬ 
pany throughout every province.” In Thebais alone, he 
himself beheld, during a succession of years, ten, twenty, 
thirty, and even sixty in a day put to death. “ All 


* De Mart. Palest., cap. ix. 


THE PERSECUTION OF DIOCLETIAN. 


353 


another time, a hundred men, with very little children and 
women, were killed in one day, being condemned to vari¬ 
ous sorts of punishments; in so much that the execu¬ 
tion#^ sword became blunt, and being unfit for use, 
was broken, and the executioners themselves being tired, 
succeeded one another by turns. At which time also,” 
he continues, “ we beheld a most admirable ardour of 
mind, and a truly divine strength and alacrity, in those 
who believed in Christ, for no sooner was sentence pro¬ 
nounced against the first, than others ran hastily from 
some other direction to make loud profession of their 
faith before the judge’s tribunal.” (Book viii., chap, ix.) 

He also relates of a city in Phrygia of which the gover¬ 
nor, the magistrates, and all the citizens were Christians, 
how they all declared with evangelical firmness their de¬ 
termination to die rather than sacrifice. Fire was set to 
the entire city, and soldiers were drawn around as in a 
siege, that no one should escape. Thus the whole popu¬ 
lation, men, women, and children, were destroyed, and 
went together to eternal crowns of glory. Baronius also 
makes mention (A.D. 301, No. 47) of a whole congrega¬ 
tion who were burnt in their church on a Christmas 
morning. 

Perhaps nothing will give us a better idea of the wide¬ 
spread virulence of the persecution than the impression 
made on the minds of the Emperors that they had com¬ 
pletely destroyed Christianity. So utterly impossible 
did it appear to them that the Christian Church could 
any longer subsist that, in the security and unhesitating 
anticipation of the event, pompous inscriptions were set 
up in various places to commemorate, amongst other ex¬ 
ploits of the Emperors, that they had destroyed the super- 


354 


THE MARTYRS OF TI1E COLISEUM. 


stition of Christ. The following are two specimens of 

the lying inscriptions:— 

“ diocletianus iovius et maximianus 

HERCULEUS C^ES. AUG- » 

AMPLIFICATO PER. ORIENTEM ET 
OCCIDENTEM IMP. ROM. 

ET 

NOMINE CHRISTIANORUM 
DELETO, QUI REMP. EVER- 
TEBANT.” * 

Again :— 

“ DIOCLETIANUS CjES. 

AUG. GALERIO IN ORIENTE ADOPT. 

SUPERSTITIONE CHRIST. 

UBIQUE DELETA ET CULTU 

DEORUM PROPAGATO.” f 

We smile when we look at these inscriptions, and then 
at the Catholic Chnrch as she is at present, with her two 
hundred millions of subjects. The whole population of 
the Roman Empire did not number as many as she can 
count in her pale to day. A few months after these slabs 
were attached to the walls of the palace, a Christian sat 
on the very throne of the Emperor himself. Whilst the 
sculptor was carving the inscription on what he considered 
the tombstone of the annihilated sect, Constantine was 
marshalling his troops beyond the Alps, and had perhaps 
already read the terrible sign in the heavens that told 
him he was destined by the Great Eternal to liberate His 
Church and destroy for ever the power of'the pagan ; yea, 
when those marble slabs were brought from the workshop 

* “ Diocletian Jupiter and Maximianus Hercules, Caesars, having 
extended the Roman Empire through the East and West, and de¬ 
stroyed the name of the Christians, who were ruining the state.” 

+ “Diocletian, Caesar Augustus, and Galerius adopted in the East, 
having everywhere swept away the superstition of Christ, and pro¬ 
pagated the worshp of the gods.” 


THE PERSECUTION OF DIOCLETIAN . 


355 


and reflected for the first time the sun of heaven from 
their polished surfaces, the reigning successor of St Peter 
was making new divisions of his parishes in Rome, in¬ 
creasing them to the number of twenty-five, in order to 
meet the religious exigencies of his people, who were 
multiplying under the sword ! * 

How strange to reflect that monuments were once 
erected to commemorate the downfall of Christianity ! 
It was at that very time on the eve of its triumph, whilst 
the dynasty that endeavoured to crush it was in the 
throes of dissolution. Those very monuments are pre¬ 
served as curiosities in the museum of the Christian 
successor of the Csesars: their reign of terror passed away 
to give place to the milder sway of the power they 
thought no more, and now their golden houses, their 
triumphal arches, and colossal amphitheatres, are but ruins 
beside the churches that cover the relics of the martyrs 
whom they slew. Little did Diocletian or Galeriusthink, 
when they read with complacency the monuments that 
commemorated their wonderful doings, that the time 
would come, when a Christian traveller, from an unknown 
island in the Southern Ocean (New Zealand), would read 
the same slabs in the morning in the Vatican Museum, 
and in the evening sit on a broken arch of the Coliseum 
to sketch the ruins of the golden palace ! 

Yet these interesting inscriptions tell a terrible tale of 
the fierceness of the persecution. Every vestige of the 
Church was swept from the face of the earth. It was 

# “ Hie (Marcellus Papa) fecit csenieterium Via Salaria efc vi* 
genti quinque titulos in urbe constituit quasi dioceses propter bap- 
tismum et pcenitentium multorum qui convertebantur ex paganis 
et sepulturas martyrum .”—Ex Lib. Pont, in Vit. Morul. ; and 
Baronins, Anno 309, No. 4. 


356 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


pulled down indeed from the high places, and banished 
from the circles of the rich, but it flourished in the cabins 
of the poor, who were too despicable to be molested by 
the haughty pagan. It lived in the Catacombs, whose 
dark gloomy passages terrified the most zealous of the per¬ 
secutors ; and whilst the Emperors and their agents saw 
no longer any traces of the Church on earth, the Christians 
were gathered in thousands deep in the bowels of the earth, 
and celebrated the sacred mysteries in basilicas ornamented 
with all the beauties of art, and chanted the praises of 
God before marble altars decorated with gold and blazing 
with light. It could not be otherwise. Almighty God 
did not intend that his Church should be destroyed. He 
permitted the visitation in His own all-wise providence; 
but had He not kept His hand stretched over it, they 
would have watched in vain who were set to guard the 
city. “ Nisi Dominus custodieret civitatem, frustra vigi- 
lat qui custodit earn.” (Ps. cxxvi.) 

But Christianity had triumphed and achieved its own 
emancipation even before the cross was assumed as the 
signal of victory by Constantine. Proof sufficient had 
already been afforded that the Church stood in need of no 
earthly patronage, and could stand without the smiles, or 
even the toleration, of the world’s rulers. Its most power¬ 
ful and deadly enemies were made in the end to bite the 
dust in deep humiliation, and proclaim to the. world by 
public edicts that they failed to destroy the Church. The 
edicts of emancipation, issued by the impious Galerius on 
his death-bed, seemed to be destined by Almighty God as 
a solemn finale to all the edicts and efforts of three centu¬ 
ries to crush and annihilate His Church. They were 
proclamations to the whole world and to all generations 


THE PERSECUTION OF DIOCLETIAN. 


357 


that, in despite of the Empire, with all its terrors and its 
might, it could not only subsist, but flourish and triumph ; 
that, in a word, its history, its perennity and supernatu¬ 
ral mission were epitomised by its great Founder Him¬ 
self when He said: “ The gates of iiell shall not pre¬ 
vail AGAINST IT.” 

We will translate a paragraph of the last edict issued 
by the tyrant Galerius, as an interesting and touching con¬ 
trast with the inscriptions that declared that Christianity 
was a thing of the past. 

a Whereby all men may know, that they who desire 
to follow this sect and religion are allowed by this, our 
gracious indulgence, to apply themselves to that religion 
which they have usually followed, in such a manner as i3 
acceptable and pleasing to every one of them. Moreover 
we do permit them to rebuild their chapels. 

“ That if any houses or estates which formerly belonged 
to and were in possession of the Christians, and are by the 
edicts of our parents (Diocletian and Maximian) devolved 
to the right of the exchequer, or are seized upon by any 
city, or sold, or have been granted and bestowed upon any 
one as a token of imperial favour, we have decreed that 
they be restored to the ancient tenure and possession of 
the Christians.” (Eusebius, book viii., chap, xvi.) 

We could not conclude our brief review of this terrible 
persecution of the Church with a more fitting paragraph 
than that which declared the triumph of our faith ; but, 
as the last scene of a tragedy is the most appalling, we 
have, in the terrible judgments of God on the persecutors, 
a fit ending to our tale of horrors, and we claim the in¬ 
dulgence of the reader for another moment, whilst we 
give one from the many proofs of the veracity of the in- 


358 


THE MART YUS OF THE COLISEUM. 


spired words: “ No one has raised his hand against God 
and prospered.” 

From the moment that Diocletian had published his 
first edict, his soul became like the hell the demons ever 
carry about with them. Excessive fear and desperation 
made him insupportable to himself, and to every one who 
had the misfortune to be near him. He came to Dome 
and was hooted by the people, and quitted it by a precipi¬ 
tous flight in the middle of winter, within a few days of 
the great games which were to be inaugurated in honour 
of the ninth year of his consulship. On his journey to 
Davenna he contracted a lingering disease, that gave him 
excruciating pain. His mind was so completely weakened 
that he became an imbecile, and at times a perfect lunatic. 
But the climax of his sorrows was his humiliation. He 
was forced by the tyrant Galerius to resign in disgrace the 
title of Emperor. He was brought to a large field, about 
three miles outside the city of Nicomedia, and placed on 
a magnificent throne, clothed with the purple, and then, 
before the entire army, and before all the people of the 
city, he was obliged to divest himself of all the insignia 
of power, and transfer them to the tyratit, who sat on 
another throne near him. The old Emperor cried like a 
child ; at times gnashing his teeth with impotent rage, 
and hurling blasphemies against the gods he once served 
so faithfully. He was hooted from the field that was the 
scene of his degradation, and fled, almost alone, to Salona, 
in Dalmatia, the scene of his ignoble birth, and died there 
in obscurity, raving mad.* 

“ The other who was next to him in honour,” says 
Eusebius, speaking of Maximian, “ put an end to his own 
life by hanging himself, agreeably to a certain diabolical 
* See “ De Morte Pcrsecutorum,” cap. xvii. 


THE PERSECUTION OF DIOCLETIAN. 


359 


prediction which promised him that fate on account of his 
many and most audacious villanies.” 

But as Galerius was the chief instigator of the perse¬ 
cution, upon him the judgment fell the heaviest. Lac- 
tantius* has left a description of the horrors by which he 
was eaten alive, so hideous as not to bear translation. 
Suffice it to say, he died the death of Herod, the first per¬ 
secutor of Jesus Christ. “ These diseases,” says Eusebius, 
“ did spread incurably, and eat their way into his inmost 
bowels, from which were generated an unspeakable multi¬ 
tude of worms, and a most noisome stench proceeded 
therefrom ; for before his disease, the whole mass of flesh 
upon his body (by reason of the abundance of the food 
he devoured) was grown to immense fatness, which, be¬ 
ing then putrified, became an intolerable and most horrid 
spectacle to those that approached him. Wherefore, some 
of the physicians, being unable to endure the exceeding 
noisomeness of the smell that came from him, were killed. 
Others of them, when they could administer no remedy 
(the whole fabric of his body being swelled, and past all 
hopes of a recovery), by his orders were cruelly slain.” 
(Book viii.) Lactantius says the stench of his rotten 
carcass was so terrible as to affect, not only the palace, 
but the whole city. He was kept in this state for a whole 
year, until a horrible death rid the world of one of the 
greatest monsters it had ever seen. It was in the midst 
of those tortures that he issued the edict in favour of the 
Christians, imploring that, in return for this boon, they 
would supplicate their God for his recovery. He died on 
the 15th of May, a.d. 311, just two weeks after he signed 
the recantation of his blasphemous warfare against the 
true God. 


* As above, chap, xxxiii. 



CHAPTER XX. 

ACTS OP ST. VITUS AND COMPANIONS. 


1 . 


S T the time that Valerian was president, under 
Diocletian and Maximian, Emperors, the per¬ 
secution raged against the Christians in the 
province of Sicily. There was there, at that time, a holy 
boy named Vitus, who performed many miracles, and day 
and night implored the mercy of God, who was pleased to 
give him this reply— 

“ I will give you, O Vitus, the mercy you seek.” 

His father, named Plylas, was an illustrious but im¬ 
pious man. When he tried in vain to induce his son to 
sacrifice to the gods, he ordered him to be beaten with 
whips, and summoning his tutor Modestus, gave him the 
following command— 

“ See that this boy no longer speaks the words we have 
heard.” 

An angel of the Lord appeared to the little boy, and 
comforting him, said— 

“ I have been given to you as a guardian ; I will pro¬ 
tect you up to the day of your death, and whatsoever you 
shall ask of the Lord will be given to you.” 


ACTS OF ST. VITUS AND COMPANIONS. 361 


But it came to the ears of Valerian the governor, that 
the blessed Vitus, the son of the most noble Hylas, wor¬ 
shipped and adored the Lord God Jesus Christ. Then 
the president called the father of this saintly boy, and 
said to him : “ What is it I hear of thy son ? He wor¬ 
ships the God of the Christians 1 If you wish him to be 
safe you must endeavour to make him remove this folly.” 

2. Having heard this from the president, Hylas then 
called his son, and said : “ Most sweet son, listen to the 
advice of your father, and give up the folly of your wor¬ 
ship. How you have been brought to adore a dead man, 
I cannot tell. If the Prince come to hear it, he will turn 
on you with all the fury of his power; he will be your 
ruin and my grief.” 

The blessed Vitus replied : “ Father, didst thou but 
know this God whom thou callest a dead man, thou too 
wouldst adore him. He is the Lamb of God, who takes 
away the sins of the world.” 

“ But, Vitus,” said the father, “ I know that Christ, 
whom you call God, was flogged by the Jews, and cruci¬ 
fied by Pilate.” 

“ He was; but this is a great and wonderful mystery,” 
replied the youth. 

3. Hylas was a pagan and could not understand all the 
child said, yet, with the natural affection of a parent, he 
feared more the consequences involved in the profession 
of Christianity, than the slight offered to the gods of the 
Empire. Whilst he was reflecting how he would induce 
his son to give up his faith, Almighty God was working 
wonders through Vitus. The sick through bis prayers 
were cured, the blind received their sight, and the devils 
whom he cast out were forced to publicly declare the 


562 THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 

merits of the saintly youth. The governor Valerian 
heard of what was passing, and ordered Vitus to he 
brought before him. When he came, Valerian said : 
“ Why do you not sacrifice to the immortal gods % Do 
you not know that our princes have ordered that any one 
found worshipping the man called Christ should be put 
to death 1 ” 

But Vitus, filled with the Holy Ghost*, and showing no 
signs of fear—a thing unusual in that tender age—made 
the sign of the cross, and said : “ I shall never consent to 
worship demons, or stones, or pieces of wood ; I will only 
serve the living God, who will always protect me.” 

Then his father commenced to weep, and cried out in 
the court: “ Oh ! come and weep with me, for my only 
son is going to perish.” 

But Vitus addressed him, saying : “ I shall not, if I can 
enter into eternal life.” 

Valerian then said : “ As thou art of noble birth, and 
I have heretofore enjoyed the friendship of thy father, 
I shall not execute the whole sentence against thee as a 
sacrilegious wretch ; but as thou art an obstinate boy, I 
must have thee corrected ; lictors, give him a few strokes 
with your rods.” 

4. After they had beaten him some time, the president 
said: “ Do you consent now 1 ” 

The boy replied : “ I told you before, I will only wor¬ 
ship Jesus Christ, the true God.” 

Then the president ordered the lictors to take out the 
heavier rods, and beat him severely, but the moment they 
approached him the second time, their arms were withered 
(Efc brachia eorum arefacta sunt). Valerian’s arm suf¬ 
fered in like manner, and ho cried out with a loud voice : 


ACTS OF ST. VITUS AND COMPANIONS. 36& 

“ Alas ! I have lost my arm, and feel great pain. Hylas, 
it is not a son you have, but a devil of a magician.” 

“I am not a magician,” said Yitus, “but the servant* 
of the Lord, through whom I can do all things.” 

“Then cure me,” said Valerian, “and I will not call 
thee a magician.” 

The Blessed Yitus, raising his eyes towards heaven, 
said : “ O Lord Jesus Christ, Son of the omnipotent and 
true God, for the sake of those who stand around, I 
beseech Thee to cure the president’s arm, in order that 
they may believe in Thee.” And immediately his arm was 
cured.* 

5. Then Valerian handed the boy to his father, and 
told him to take him home, and do his best to make him 
sacrifice. Hylas did so, and endeavoured to change his 
son by kindness and blandishments : he clothed him in 
most beautiful garments, and by continual feasting and 
lewd dances tried to lead him astray, but the holy youth, 
closed his eyes and ears against all seduction, and prayed 
to God for strength. 

6. Then it came to pass that his father led him into a 
beautiful room, which was instantly filled with a heavenly 
light, and there appeared a number of angels singing 
round the holy youth. All the family and domestics 
gathered near the door. The light was so strong that no 
one could look at it, and Hylas was struck blind.f When 
the music had ceased, and the brilliant light disappeared, 
they found he had lost his sight; he groaned in great 
pain, and all the maids and attendants were in tears. 

* Et statim manurn ejus sanum reddidit.— Acts. 

+ Pater ips6 splendore reverberante in oculos ejus csecatus est.— 
Acts. 


364 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


They laid him on a conch, and surrounded him, weeping 
and mourning. Valerian, who was his friend, was sent 
for, and when he came, he inquired what was the matter, 
and they told him that Hylas had been struck blind. 
The governor made them bring him to the altar of Jupi¬ 
ter, and there Hylas promised to sacrifice innumerable 
victims of fatted oxen with gilt horns, if he should be 
restored to his sight. He promised, too, to dedicate vir¬ 
gins to the goddess Vesta, but his eyes remained closed, 
and he suffered intense pain. 

7 . They then led him to his son, and begged on bended 
knees that he would cure him. Vitus asked him if he 
would give up the worship of demons, and believe in the 
true God. Hylas answered in the affirmative, but the 
holy youth, seeing his thoughts, said: “ I understand your 
reply; your heart is hardened ; but for the sake of those 
present, although you are not worthy of it, I will cure 
you.” The blessed Vitus prayed, the scales fell from his 
father’s eyes, and he saw. 

Then the father said in a rage : “ I thank my gods for 
having cured me, and not your God.” From that moment 
he thought to kill his son. 

8. The angel of the Lord appeared to Modestus, the 
tutor of the blessed Vitus, a religious and holy man, and 
told him to take the boy to the sea-shore ; he would find 
a ship waiting, and proceed instantly where he would 
point out. 

But he said : “ I know not the way. Whither shall I 
go?” 

The angel replied: “ I will show you.” 

The blessed Vitus was then about seven years of age 
(Erat autem B. Vitus circiter annorum septem). 


ACTS OF ST. VITUS AND COMPANIONS. 365 

The angel led them to the sea-shore, where the Lord 
had prepared a small ship, and assuming the appearance 
of a pilot, the angel said : “ Where are you hurrying to, 
good people 1 ” 

Vitus answered : “ Wherever the Lord takes us, we will 
follow promptly and cheerfully. ” 

Then the angel said : “ Where is your passage money ? ” 

To which Vitus replied : “ He whom we serve will pay 
you.” 

They got into the ship, and the angel took the helm, 
and they came to a place called Electorius, and as soon 
as they landed the angel disappeared. But they went 
into the country and reached the river Siler, and rested 
under a tree. The Lord performed many miracles through 
the blessed Vitus. Food was given them by a celestial 
eagle. And a multitude of people gathered round him 
on account of the fame of his miracles. The devils cried 
out through many: “ What hast thou to do with us ? 
thou hast come before the time to destroy us.” Vitus 
spent his time in teaching the people, and baptized a great 
number. His constant prayer was: “I have believed, 
therefore have I spoken; but I have been humbled ex¬ 
ceedingly.” (Ps. cxv.) And: “As the hart panteth 
after the fountains of waters, so my soul panteth after 
Thee, O God.” (Ps. xlii.) 

9. In the meantime, the son of Diocletian* the Emperor 
was tormented by an impure spirit, and the devil cried 
out by his mouth, saying : “ Unless Vitus the Lucanian 
come here, I will not leave thee.” 

The Emperor said: “ And where can I find this man 1 ” 

* An adopted son—or favourite of the Palace —Diocletian had no 
natural offspring. 


366 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM . 


The demon replied : “ He is in the Tanagritan territory, 
near the river Siler.” 

Then Diocletian sent armed soldiers, that they might 
quickly bring the youth designated by the demon. 

When they arrived at the place, they found the cham¬ 
pion of Christ praying to the Lord; and the leader of tho 
soldiers said : “ Are you Vitus % ” 

He answered : “ I am.” 

Then he said : “ The Emperor needs you.” 

To which Vitus said : “ I am such a worthless little be¬ 
ing ; how can he want me 1 ” 

They answered: * e His son is tormented by a devil, and 
so asked to have you brought to him.” • 

Blessed Yitus said : “ Let us go, then in the name of 
the Lord.” 

When he came to Rome, his arrival was announced to 
the Emperor, who ordered him immediately to be brought 
before him. The countenance of blessed Yitus was ex¬ 
tremely handsome, and shining like fire; his eyes wer) 
like the rays of the sun, for they were filled with the 
grace of God. Then Diocletian said : “ Are you Yitus 1 ” 

But he was silent. 

Then Caesar commenced to interrogate Modestus, but 
he, being old and of a simple nature, did not know how 
to give a suitable reply; and the Emperor Ridiculed him. 

Wherefore blessed Yitus said : “ Why do you question 
the old man as if he were still young ? Ought you not 
rather to respect his grey hairs ? ” 

Then Diocletian, enraged, said : “ How have you such 
presumption that you dare speak so angrily in the face of 
our authority ? ” 

Vitus replied : u We are not angry, who have received 


ACTS OF ST. VITUS AND COMPANIONS. 86} 


the spirit of simplicity, through the bounty of Christ 
We should rather imitate the meekness of the dove. Our 
Master, who taught us, is of His own nature good : He 
is great indeed in power, but modest in simplicity. 
Wherefore, those who wish to be His disciples must be 
meek and humble of heart, and not passionate or bois¬ 
terous.” 

10. Then the demon, by the mouth of the tortured son 
of Diocletian, cried out horribly, saying: “ O Vitus ! why 
do you cruelly torture me before the time 1 ” 

To which Vitus replied nothing ; but the Emperor said : 
M Vitus, can you cure my son ? ” 

The blessed Vitus replied : “ Health, indeed, it is possi¬ 
ble for him to regain, which I cannot give him; but by 
me Christ, whose servant I am, can, if He wishes, liberate 
him most easily from this impious enemy.” And after 
Diocletian had besought him, he approached the possessed, 
and laying his hands on his head, said : “ Impure spirit! 
depart from this creature of God, in the name of the Lord 
Jesus Christ.” And immediately the devil left him, and 
killed a great many infidels.* 

Then Diocletian, seeing his son cured, and many of the 
infidels who were mocking at St. Vitus killed, and en¬ 
raptured with the beauty of the boy, advised him blandly 
and kindly, saying : “ Dearest Vitus, if you will only con¬ 
sent to sacrifice to our gods, I will give you the best part 
of my kingdom ; I will load you with immense riches of 
gold and silver, and precious garments, and every kind of 
costly furniture, and I will esteem you as my dearest and 
most intimate friend.” 

* Et statim recessit ab eo daemon et occidit plurimos infidelium.— 
Acts. 


368 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM . 


Vitus replied : “ I have no need of thy kingdom, nor of 
thy garments, nor of thy riches ; I have my Lord God, 
who will clothe me with the stole of immortality, which 
no darkness can obscure, if I persevere in serving Him 
faithfully.” 

Diocletian then said: “ Do not act in this way, Vitus, 
but think rather of thy life, and sacrifice to the gods, lest 
thou perish by divers torments.” 

To which Vitus replied : “ I esteem inestimably those 
torments with which you threaten me; by them I can 
gain the palm which the Lord has deigned to promise to 
His elect.” 

11. Then Diocletian ordered his ministers to cast the 
blessed Vitus, together with Modestus, into a most vile 
prison; and when they were cast into prison, he ordered 
each of them to be loaded with eighty pounds of iron, and 
the prison to be sealed with his own ring, so that no one 
could enter to give them even a drop of water But 
when they were shut up, immediately a great light lit up 
the prison, so that the terrified guards looked on with 
wonder. The blessed Vitus cried out with a loud voice, 
saying : " Thou hast inclined to our aid, O Lord ; hasten 
and free us from this punishment, as Thou didst free the 
three children in the burning furnace, and Susanna from 
the iniquity of false witnesses.” 

At these words of the saint, an earthquake shook the 
prison, a wonderful light radiated through it, and a deli¬ 
cious odour was spread through the enclosure. Our blessed 
Lord appeared to them, saying : “Arise, Vitus ; be com¬ 
forted and strong; behold, I am with you all days.” 

And then the vision left them. The iron that bound 
and weighed them down was melted like wax ; there were 


ACTS OF ST. VITUS AND COMPANIONS. 369 


the voices of a multitude of angels, singing with them in 
the prison, and saying : “ Blessed be the Lord God of 
Israel, for He hath visited and wrought the redemption 
off His people. ” 

The gaolers, heariDg those things, were almost paralysed 
with fear, and ran to the Emperor’s palace, crying out in 
a loud voice : “ O most pious Emperor, help us; the whole 
city is perishing, and the people are destroyed.” 

Hearing these sounds, the Emperor was in consterna¬ 
tion, and said to the gaolers : “What is this great misfor¬ 
tune you so unreasonably publish ? ” 

They answered : “ Vitus, whom you ordered us to bind 
in prison, has been surrounded by a dazzling light; an 
ineffable odour fills the cell; and there is a Man with 
them (Vitus and Modestus) whose countenance no man 
dare look on ; He spoke with them, and a multitude of 
young men dressed in white sang 'aloud most joyful 
praises.” 

12. Then Diocletian, filled with anger, ordered the 
amphitheatre to be prepared, saying : “ I will deliver them 
to the wild beasts, and I will see if their Christ can deliver 
them out of my hands.” # 

And when they had entered the amphitheatre, blessed 
Vitus warned his aged tutor not to be afraid, saying : “ Be 
brave, father, and fear not the sword of the devil, for now 
our crown is coming.” 

There was at this exhibition more than five thousand 
men, without counting women and children, of whom 
there was a countless number. 

When they stood before Diocletian, he said : “ Vitus, 
where do you see yourself?” 

But Vitus, raising his eyes to heaven, replied nothing, 

X 


370 THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 

Diocletian, repeating the question, said. “ Where do 
you see yourself, Yitus h 99 

Yitus then replied : “ I see myself in the amphitheatre ; 
however, do what you are going to do.” 

“Think of your life,” said Diocletian, “and sacrifice to 
the great gods.” 

Yitus said: “Never may it be well with thee, Satan, 
thou rapacious wolf, thou deceiver of souls ! How great 
is thy audacity to persuade me to do these things, after 
seeing so many wonders ! But I possess Christ, to whom 
up to this time I have sacrificed every thought of my soul, 
and to whom I now sacrifice all that remains of me.” 

13. Then unable to contain himself with rage, the Em¬ 
peror ordered his ministers to prepare the cauldron 
with lead and pitch. The lictors did as they were 
ordered, and the blessed champion of Christ was put into 
it. Whilst they were putting him in, the Emperor said : 
“Now I will see if thy God can free thee from my hands.” 

But Yitus was making the sign of the life-giving cross 
while they were casting him into the oven. The furnace 
glowed like the sea; and immediately an angel appeared, 
who extinguished^ the heat, whilst blessed Yitus stood in 
the middle singing a hymn to the Lord, saying : “ Thou 
who hast freed the children of Israel nom the land of 
Egypt, and from a tyrannical yoke and an iron furnace, 
through Thy servant Moses, give us mercy, on account 
of the glory of Thy holy name.” 

And calling on the Emperor, he said aloud : “ I thank 
thee, Diocletian, and thy ministers, for preparing such a 
pleasant bath and towels for me.” 

The whole people burst into exclamations, saying ; 


ACTS OF ST. VITUS AND COMPANIONS. 371 

“ l>uch wonders we have never seen! Yerily the God of 
this infant is true and great! ” * 

Vitus came out of the oven without a stain on his body, 
but his flesh shone like the snow. Beturning thanks to 
God he said : “ Thou hast proved me, O Lord, like gold ; 
Thou hast tried me with fire, and no iniquity has been 
found in me.” Chiding the Emperor, he boldly said : 
“ Blush, thou devil, with Satan thy father, seeing what 
wonders the Lord works in His servants.” 

14. The Emperor, bursting more and more with rage, 
ordered a lion to be brought in, whose roaring even the 
men could scarcely bear. When he was let loose, the 
Emperor said: “ Do you think your magical arts will 
prevail this time ? ” 

“ Stupid and foolish man ! ” cried out Vitus, “ Do you 
not see that Christ the Lord is with me ? At His words 
the angels will deliver me from every pain and from thy 
hands.” 

And when the lion came towards him he made over 
him the sign of the cross, and he fell at his feet, and licked 
them (plantas ejus lingebat). Then the blessed Vitus 
said to Diocletian: 11 Behold, impious man, the very 
animals give honour to God, and you do not recognise 
your Creator ; even if you now believe in Him, I will 
promise you salvation.” 

Diocletian said : “ Thou mayest believe in Him and all 
thy kind.” 

Vitus, smiling, said : “ Thou hast said well ; for I and 
all that are like me, that are born of God by faith, in 
whom I have been regenerated, desire a perpetual crown 
in heaven.” 

* Tanquam mirabilia nunquam vidimus; vere enim verus et 
magnus est Deus infantis liujus ! 


S72 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


In that hour about a thousand persons believed in 
Christ. Diocletian said : “ Seeing your doings, many of 
the people are beginning to believe in those arts by which 
you overcome fire and the wild beasts.” 

Vitus replied : “ Fire and beasts are not ruled by arts ; 
but because they are creatures they give honour to their 
Creator, my Lord Jesus Christ. But you should be the 
more confounded ; because, although a rational creature, 
you are worse than insensible things and irrational 
brutes.” 

15. Then Diocletian ordered his attendants to have 
Vitus, and Modestus his tutor, and Crescentia his nurse, 
who, on account of his preaching, believed in Christ, ex¬ 
tended on the rack. Then Vitus said : “ Iiidiculous and 
cowardly you show yourself to be when you command a 
woman to be tortured.” 

But the saints of God were stretched on the rack, 
so that their bones were dislocated and their bowels 
appeared. In this torment the blessed Vitus cried out: 
“ 0 Lord God, save us in Thy name, and in Thy power 
deliver us ! ” 

Immediately there was a great earthquake and terrible 
lightnings ; the temples of the idols fell, and a great many 
people were killed. The Emperor also fled away terrified ; 
and striking his forehead with his hand, cried out in a 
loud voice : “ Woe is me ! I have been shamefully con¬ 
quered by a mere child ! ” * 

An angel descended from heaven and lifted their bodies 
from the rack, and immediately they found themselves 
transported once more near to the river Siler, and repos¬ 
ing under a tree. Vitus invoked the Lord once more, and 

* Vae mihi, quia a tantillo infantulo turpiter superatus sum !— Acts , 


ACTS OF ST. VITUS AND COMPANIONS. 373 

said : “ 0 Lord Jesus Christ, Son of the living God, 
complete the desire of those who wish to glorify Thy 
name by sufferings of martyrdom ! preserve them, O 
Lord by Thy grace from the dangers of this world, and 
bring them to the glory of Thy magnificence.” And 
when he had finished his prayer, there came a voice from 
heaven which said to him: “Vitus, thy petition has been 
granted.” And immediately their holy spirits left their 
sacred bodies in the appearance of snow-white doves, and 
accompanied by angels singing in joy, they flew towards 
the distant heavens. 

16. For three days a celestial eagle guarded their 
remains. On the third day, Florentia, a noble lady, was 
driving by in her chariot on the banks of the river, when 
suddenly the horse became restive and caused her to fall in 
the centre of the s'tream. She was commencing to sink 
when St. Vitus appeared to her walking on the water. 
Florentia cried out, with a loud voice : “ Save me if you 
be an angel of God! ” 

To which the blessed Vitus replied : “ I am Vitus, 
sent by the Lord, who is the Author and Preserver of 
human life, to save thee, in order that thou mayest bury 
our bodies ; and whatsoever thou askest, in the name of 
the Saviour, by our prayers thou wilt obtain.” 

Florentia, being saved from the torrent, collected the 
bodies of the saints, and embalmed them with spices, and 
buried them in th6 same place in which they died, called 
Morianus. 

St. Vitus, together with Modestus and Crescentia, suf¬ 
fered on the 17th Kalends of July, our Lord Jesus Christ 
reigning : to whom is all honour, glory, power, and 
majesty, through all ages. Amen. 



CHAPTER XXI. 

• - 

META SUDANS. 

» EAR the Coliseum, a stone’s throw from the Arch 
of Constantine, there stands a dilapidated ruin, 
which has given origin to some discussion 
amongst antiquarians. Its large circular base and 
ruined conical fragment of masonry with tube for 
water, leave little doubt that it was a £ one time a foun¬ 
tain. As the lovers of antiquity are privileged to make 
any amount of absurd conjectures, this ruin has passed in 
their imagination to castles and towers of grandeur far 
surpassing its past or present pretensions. But time has 
played with the works of man, and turning gigantic 
buildings upside down, has left their massive remnants 
as puzzles for the solution of generations who tread on the 
dust of fallen nations. Notwithstanding the variety of 
opinions as to its real destination, antiquarians are prebty 
fairly agreed on the name it bears, as the Meta Sudans .* 

*Metam Sudantem ante arcum Constantini et Amphitheatrum con- 
stituunt fontem eorum qui ludos frequentabant extinguendae siti per- 
commodum eminente Jovis simulacro quam in numines expressam 
•'habemus. Extat hodieque semirutu absquesi mulacro et fonte juxta 
Coliseum vulgo dictum uti earn Romanorum ruinarum icones reprae- 
sentant.— Donatus , lib. 3, Romce Veter is. 




META SUDANS. 


375 


When the gladiator had struggled for life with the 
king of the forest, or felled a more formidable opponent 
in a fellow-prisoner, he was permitted the luxury of a 
bath, to revive his exhausted frame in this fountain of 
cool and crystal water. Its ruddy and crimson dye soon 
told the share it took in the bloody games of the Amphi¬ 
theatre, for hither the panting victor hastened to cleanse 
his own wounds, or remove the stains of his victim’s 
blood. Some will have it flowed with oil, but we have 
no further evidence for this beyond the custom mentioned 
by some ancient writers, that the gladiators rubbed their 
• skins with oil before entering the arena. This strange 
nondescript ruin has, however, besides its name, another 
circumstance of hallowed reminiscence handed down to 
us in the records of sacred history. It was at one time 
the shrine of a martyr’s relics; it is mentioned in connec¬ 
tion with the martyr Restitutus, a nobl.e Roman youth, 
who forms the subject of this sketch. 

The readers who have been to the Eternal City will find 
in these touching records, allusions to places well-known 
in rambles through the Forum. They carry us in thought 
to the scene of the greatest events of the past, through 
monuments whose name and history have been partly 
spared in the whirlwind of ruin and desolation that has 
swept over this city of magnificence. 

Few of the monuments of the Forum have a certain 
history. It is painful to the student of archseology to find 
the discrepancy between authors about each column, 
each fragment of wall—each foundation cleared from the 
dibris of past centuries. More than once the lesson of 
human vanity has been given to us, together with an out¬ 
rage to our feelings in our musings over the old Forum. 


376 THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 

No sooner had we roused our thoughts to a pitch of ven¬ 
eration, suitable for the study of the mighty temple of 
Jupiter that shone with burnished gold, or the majestic 
temple of Concord, that shook under the eloquence of 
the immortal Cicero, when some other writer or some 
more recent discovery broke in on our reverie, and bid 
us transfer our adoration to some other broken fragment 
of masonry or solitary column that adorns this wilderness 
of ruin. The great Cardinal Wiseman has jocosely given 
us his experience of the antiquarian discrepancies that 
hang around the old Forum; his words have more truth 
to day than when he penned them perhaps forty years ago. 

“ The revolutions that used to take place in the old 
Forum,” he writes in his Essays and lieviews, “ are nothing 
compared to those that are now daily witnessed in it. In 
ancient times the senators or tribunes might change sides ; 
but certainly not the temples ; one candidate might jostle 
another out of his place, but one large building could 
hardly be so unneighbourly to its fellow of brick and 
mortar; one faction might drive the other back and even 
out of the sacred precincts; but it would have been unu¬ 
sual, we fancy, for one portico to send another with 
all its columns, rank and file, a-packing from the station 
it occupied for some centuries : some patriot might put to 
open shame a turbulent demagogue, but we imagine the 
ancients never saw the front of one building outface another 
till this one turned its back upon its rival. Yet all such 
wonderful evolutions have we beheld among the buildings 
of the Roman Forum—not unaptly compared by the late 
Sir W. Gell, to a country dance, in which temples change 
sides, monuments, cross-hands, and columns lead down 
the middle. We cannot imagine a more dangerous ex- 


META SEDANS. 


377 


posure of parental authority to contempt, than would 
occur should any gentleman who had visited Rome only 
twenty years ago, rummage out his journal and the notes 
he made after the most approved guide books of the day, 
and proceed in person to show his boys the lions of ancient 
Rome. Why the young sparks (we speak from experi¬ 
ence) would laugh at the old gentleman’s beard upon 
- hearing his antiquated antiquarianism. He naturally 
takes them to the Church of Aracoeli on the Capitol, and 
tells them with great feeling that this is the site of Jupiter 
Capitolinus, and tries to work up their minds to a suitable 
pitch of enthusiasm. But the rogues have found out in 
their guide books that since their papa was last in Rome 
the said temple has quietly walked across the area on the 
top of the hill, and placed itself on its other extremity, 
where, by a lucky coincidence, the Archaeological Institute 
has established itself. He descends into the Forum and 
points out three columns of beautiful form composing 
an angle of a portico at the foot of the Capitol. These, 
everybody has known from time immemorial as part ot 
the Temple of Jupiter Tonans. But there everybody has 
been wrong ; for now they are considered as part of the 
temple of Saturn. Eight other columns stand beside 
these, which twenty years ago you would have taken any 
wager belonged to the Temple of Concord, celebrated as 
the theatre of Cicero’s indignant eloquence. But alas, 
within the last twenty years, the edifice has passed 
through many transmutations, having been changed first 
by Nibby into the Temple of Fortune, then by Fea into 
that of Juno Moneta, later by Piale into that of Vespa¬ 
sian, since by Canina into that of Saturn a and lastly by 
Bunsen back again to that of Vespasian, which for the 


378 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


present it remains. The hero of a Christmas pantomime 
could not have endured more changes.” 

Yet the Capitol, the triumphal arch of Severus, the 
Coliseum and Meta Sudans are like fixed stars amid this 
everchanging mass of ruins. Seventeen hundred years 
ago they bore the same names as they do now, although 
one of the great old Romans raised from the dust in which 
he has slept for centuries would scarely recognise, in the 
remnants that stand, the majestic structures that were 
familiar to his eyes in the days of their magnificence. 
Near these monuments many a brave Christian found his 
crown. Amongst them was the martyr who is connected 
in history with the Meta Sudans. 

“ We have found this man powerful and eloquent in 
speech, teaching the people that the worship of our gods 
is vain, saying they have but an imaginary existence; he 
belongs to some strange sect they call Christian.” 

Thus spoke some rude soldiers as they presented to the 
Prefect of the city a young noble citizen, with his hands 
bound behind his back. 

“ Who are you or whence do you come ? ” asked the 
Prefect, Hermogenes, with a menacing frown. 

“ I am a Roman citizen of noble birth; if you wish 
my carnal name, I am called Restitutus, but in the pro¬ 
fession of my faith I am a Christian.” 

“ Have you not heard the orders of the Prince ? ” 

“What have they commanded?” asked Restitutus 
mildly. 

“ That all who will not sacrifice to the omnipotent gods 
should be punished by various and terrible torments,” 
said the Prefect, becoming excited, and watching the 
noble youth impatiently, in the hopes he had already ter¬ 
rified him into submission. 


META SUDANS. 


379 


“ I know the commands of mij Emperor,” boldly re¬ 
plied the Christian, “ whoever will deny Him will perish 
in eternal torments.” 

“ Cease to speak'thus,” cried the President, * but come 
hither and sacrifice to the revered deities, that are the 
guardians of the Empire, and you will be a friend of Caesar; 
otherwise, you shall feel the weight of our indignation, 
and shall be tortured with fire.” 

“ I am prepared,” Restitutus mildly but bravely re¬ 
plied, “to offer myself in sacrifice to my Lord Jesus 
Christ.” 

With this conversation the Acts introduce the brief but 
touching history of one of those noble youths cut down 
like beautiful flowers in the terrible storm that blew over 
the garden of the Church—flowers that still give fragrance 
in the sanctity of their names, and the hallowed memories 
with which they are shrouded in the pages of sacred his¬ 
tory. Like many other of the victims of those cruel days, 
we. have no interesting particulars of his youth. Doubt¬ 
less the constancy and the miracles that invariably sanc¬ 
tioned the teachings of the martyrs had struck and con¬ 
verted the generous heart of our young hero; he may 
have seen the animals play around the servants of Christ 
in the Amphitheatre; he was present, perhaps, when the 
silent prayer of some youth like himself threw the idol 
from its pedestal, and dashed it to the earth in a thousand 
pieces; or, perhaps, was one of the many who gathered 
through curiosity around the accursed stone , but for whom 
the last dying prayer of some martyr going to his crown, 
opened the clouds of heaven, and drew down the grace and 
gift of faith. He was a nobleman of wealth and position, 
who abandoned the treacherous path of worldly honours 


380 


THE MARTYRS OR THE COLISEUM. 


to follow in the humble path of the followers of the cru¬ 
cified God. Brave, the youth that would rush through 
the devouring flames of a conflagration to save a victim; 
that would plunge into the stormy sea to save a drown¬ 
ing fellow-creature; brave, the youth who yearns for the 
front of the battle, and rushes fearlessly into the thickest 
of the fight; but braver far the young man who renounces 
the fascination of wealth, the smiles of fortune, and the 
gilded picture that fancy paints for the fervid youthful 
imagination. Such was the conduct of Kestitutus. 

The intrepid reply of the martyr roused the tyranny of 
the Prefect, and he ordered his mouth to be beaten with 
stones; but he did not feel any pain, God by a miracle 
had deadened the sense of feeling. 

“What do you expect to gain by this obstinacy?” 
asked the President. 

“For the love and fear of my Lord Jesus Christ, I 
have despised the Court (militiam intra palatium), and 
now I wish only to serve in an everlasting warfare a 
celestial King.” 

“But,” rejoined the President, “in consideration of 
your youth and beauty, approach and sacrifice to the gods, 
that you may rQceive the reward of great dignity and 
power.” 

Kestitutus replied : “ In serving the true God of Heaven 
I have not lost nor demeaned my dignity; the dig¬ 
nities, the honours of earth, fade like the things of earth 
—as are gone the flowers of summer and the snows of 
winter, so have passed the glory and worldly dignity of 
our ancestors—but that profession which takes its nobi¬ 
lity from an eternal source is like it in its eternal dura 
tion.” 


ME'fA SUDANS. 


381 


Truly tlie martyr spoke with a sublime appreciation of 
the eternal character of the Christian’s warfare. The 
Prefect who made him suffer for his faith has long since 
pas*sed into oblivion, notwithstanding the wealth and 
power that shone around him in the giddy hour of his 
reign. He is not now known except in the infamy of his 
cruelty, which is recorded by sacred writers in handing 
to posterity and eternal fame the noble„ youth who had 
despised even the splendours of the Pagan Court, and 
wisely chosen the eternal dignity of the Christian war¬ 
fare. 

He is stript of his clothes. The biting lash twines in 
serpentine coils around his symmetrical limbs; each 
stroke is registered in livid and blue marks on the tender 
flesh. Yet the agony of pain indicated by the suffering 
flesh was removed from the spirit of the martyr; by a 
miracle of God he felt no pain. Braver than ever, 
and with an eloquence that will be designated as 
the supernatural gift promised to the martyrs, the youth¬ 
ful Bestitutus reproached his judge for his cruelty and 
hard-heartedness. 

“ Wretched enemy of God,” he said fervidly, “ see what 
our Lord does for those who love him ; where are thy 
threats and thy horrible torments 1 Ought you not to 
abandon your impious sect and worship Him who alone 
is great, and frees his servants from the tortures of their 
persecutors ; how much better to recognize Him as God, 
instead of the powerless gods of wood and stone that you 
so foolishly adore; idols, that can neither help themselves 
nor you.” 

Strong, fearless reproof like this was a great crime 
in the martyrs of Christianity. The Christian prepared 


382 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


to meet death—beyond which no other evil was terrible 
—was eloquent and fearless before the tribunal ot the 
pagans. Eestitutus is again beaten, but this time \^;ith 
whips with small balls of lead attached to the thongs 
Again God preserved him—again the Prefect foamed— 
again the martyr fearlessly pronounced the awful sentence 
of retribution written in the book of life, against the hard¬ 
ened Prefect. * 

The prison scene was the most remarkable in this 
tragedy of real life. God permitted his servant to 
perform a miracle of an extraordinary character, 
in which we scarcely know whether we are more struck 
by the ppwer imparted by God to Eestitutus, or the 
hardness and blindness of those who reaped the advan¬ 
tage of the miracle. It reveals the terrible fact that even 
in the days of the martyrs, there were blind, hardened 
hearts who would not believe—not even if they saw the 
dead raised to life ; they were many then—their number 
is legion now. 

When Eestitutus was cast into prison he found the 
gloomy dungeon filled with the wretched outcasts of Eo- 
man society, the murderer, the robber, the seditious, the 
victims of intemperance and passion, whose souls were 
red in the deep stain of crime, and breathing blasphemy 
rather than prayer. Yet for such the loving, forgiving 
heart of Jesus yearns, and his martyrs come like the 
cheerful sunlight that shines equally on the good and 
bad to console those self-degraded victims of crime. No 
sooner is the noble youth cast in amongst them when 
they gather around him and beseech him to set them free 
as other Christians had done in the same and other pri¬ 
sons in the city. Eestitutus did not hesitate. He threw 


META SUE A NS. 


383 


himself on his knees and prayed aloud to God. The 
foundations of the prison were shaken, a beautiful light 
burst through the rocky walls, and a delicious odour was 
diffused throughout the sombre filthy prison. At the 
same moment the heavy iron door grated on its hinges, 
and was rolled back by some invisible hand. 

“ See,” said Eestitutus, “ what God will do for those 
who love him ; if any of you, fellow prisoners, wish to 
save your souls, stay here with me; if the love of life and 
liberty are thy desire—then flee. The Lord has burst 
thy chains and unbarred thy prison door.” Without 
waiting to thank, and regardless of the fate of their 
benefactor, they struggled through the narrow entrance 
to hasten to daylight and liberty, nor did they stop their 
flight till the dawn of the next day.* 

The next morning the gaolers came to the prisons ; they 
found the doors wide open ; their inmates fled—all save 
the Christian youth who was kneeling like a seraph in an 
aureola of light, his hands folded on his breast and in an 
ecstasy of prayer, unconscious of the arrival and intrusion 
of the astonished guards. Even they dared not enter, 
but whilst some remained to look in with increasing won¬ 
der on the angelic youth, others hastened to inform the 
Prefect of the strange event. Even he is struck with 
terror, but in his worldly wisdom he dare not show 
a weakness before the messengers; feigning courage he 
ordered the martyr to be brought before him again ; 
when Eestitutus once chained was led before him, he 
commenced in a prepared speech— 

* Exeuntes vero omnes simul e carcere abierunt unusquisque in 
f ugam tota nocte, etc.— Acts, May 29, Boll an (lists. 


3S4 THE MARTYRS 01 Tilt COLISEUM. 

“ How long shall thy magic arts triumph ; how long 
will you continue to blaspheme our gods and defy our 
torments in immunity from pain 1 How come you to 
burst the very chains and free from their merited doom 
the robbers and cut-throats of our public prisons'! Do 
the principles of thy creed enjoin such a doubtful mo¬ 
rality 1 ” 

“ Do not attribute to magic,” replied Restitutus, ‘ the 
works of the right hand of God. He who came from 
Heaven to save sinners, who ate with them, was counted 
amongst them, and crucified with them, knows how to 
break their bonds when occasion offers for his greater 
glory.” 

“ Sacrifice! ” shouted the Prefect, interrupting the holy 
youth. 

“ To what sort of gods do you command me to sa¬ 
crifice ? To those perhaps made by the artisan from 
wood, bronze and stone, images without life or sense, 
but which indeed represent devils that shall suffer to¬ 
gether with the worshippers in eternal fire.” 

“ It is an insult to the gods and to myself to permit this 
man to insult us any longer. Take him, lictors, to the 
temple of Jupiter on the Capitol, and if he still refuse to 
sacrifice, let him be beheaded there as a* warning to this 
foolish sect.” 

What the temple of Jerusalem was to the carnal Jews, 
what the great St. Peter’s is to modern Christians, such 
was the great shrine of the chief of the gods on the Capi¬ 
tol of ancient Rome. “ Arx omnium nationum ” in the 
eyes of Cicero, and for 1000 years the great centre around 
which rallied all that was grand or absurd in the Ritual 
of Paganism. This temple was commenced by Tarquh 


META SUDANS. 


385 


nius Priscus’; it was increased and adorned by various 
rulers in after ages. In the history of the eternal city it 
marks three important epochs in which it was burnt 
to the ground by fire. It was finally built with surpass¬ 
ing magnificence by Titus, and he finished it by gilding its 
roof with 12,000 talents of gold—a fabulous expenditure 
when calculated with the value of gold of the present day. 
It was afterwards twice struck by lightning at the prayers 
of the Christian Martyrs, and again nearly consumed by 
fire—fire sent from heaven to check the abomination of 
its impious sacrifices. 

It was in consideration of his nobility Restitutus was 
ordered to the Capitol. The Roman criminal law, espe¬ 
cially the clauses providing for the execution of crimi¬ 
nals called Christians, required the sentence to be earned 
out at one of the milestones outside the city gates. Hence 
we so frequently find in the Acts of the Martyrs that they 
were beheaded at the second, seventh, and sixteenth 
milestone on the Appian, Latin, or Salarian Ways. 

“ The soldiers vafnly endeavouring to get him to sacri¬ 
fice,” say the Acts, “ led him out of the temple into the 
square of the Capitol and there decapitated him ; they 
cast his body near the triumphal arch of Severus that the 
dogs might devour it; but Justa, a holy matron, came at 
night with some servants and stole the body, wrapt it in 
precious cloths and odoriferous balm, brought it to her 
house alongside the Meta Sudans, whence she brought it 
in her own chariot to her vineyard at the sixteenth mile¬ 
stone, where she had it honourably buried.” Acts, 29th 
May. Bollandists. 


Y 



CHAPTER XXTI. 

THE LAST MARTYR. 

AXENTIUS has been drowned in the Tiber, and 
Constantine has marched in triumph to the 
capital. With a loud voice and by inscriptions 
he made known to all men. the standard of salvation; he 
erected an immense cross on the highest part of the 
Capitol, and placed under it this inscription : “ By this 
salutary sign, the genuine type of fortitude, I have 
liberated and freed your city from the slavish yoke of a 
tyrant, restoring the Senate and people of Rome to their 
pristine splendour and dignity.” It is the cross that is 
triumphant on the Capitol. Behold, the greatest miracle 
in the records of history ! Rome had seen many wonders 
in her twenty-six centuries of existence, but the scene on 
the highest of her seven hills, on the morning after the 
battle of the Saxa Rubra, was the strangest, whilst at the 
same time the most important in the history of her varied 
career. That which- was the most abject, the most 
despised, and the most persecuted thing in the world, 
becomes in a moment the emblem of triumph, the true 
type of fortitude, the instrument of liberation and redemp¬ 
tion to a stricken and trampled people ! This was a 
miracle incomparably greater than the vision of the cross 


THE LAST MART YE. 


387 


given to Constantine. It involved a revolution of dynas¬ 
ties, and a change in the hearts of men, that could only 
come from the right hand of God. Even in the limited 
perceptions of human reasoning, we could not imagine 
another miracle more calculated to convince the pagan 
world of the divinity of the crucified God, whom it endea¬ 
voured to despise. After centuries of persecution, after 
every opposition that human power or human malice 
could bring against His Church, that Church is now 
triumphant in the emblem of its immortality, in the 
cross on its Capitol. 

Some of the most inveterate pagans could scarcely 
believe their senses; they moved away muttering blasphe¬ 
mies against the God whom they still hated, but whose 
power they were forced to acknowledge ; the Christians 
gathered nearer and nearer to the beloved symbol of their 
hopes ; they kissed it and bedewed it with many tears ; 
they sang around it, in loud and cheerful tones, the 
praises of the royal prophet who had foretold its triumph. 
Far away in the distance and down the slopes of the 
Capitol, retiring bands of Christians were heard singing : 
“ Who is like to Thee, 0 Lord, among the gods 1 Thou 
hast been glorified in the saints, admirable in glories, 
doing wonders.” 

But, perhaps, this is an ill-timed congratulation for a 
triumph that is to last but an hour. The Coliseum is not 
yet converted. We have not yet finished its scenes of 
horror, and Christian blood must flow again in its arena. 
The title of our present chapter recalls scenes of bloodshed 
and persecution as violent as any we have recorded. 
Nevertheless the triumph of Constantine was lasting, 
complete, and universal. He was but an instrument in the 


388 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


hands of God to effect the perfect establishment of his 
Church. His miraculous escape from the court of Gale- 
rius, his generosity, his prudence and nobility of mind, 
and, above all, his victorious march from Gaul, destroying 
with a handful of men the overwhelming forces of the 
Empire, were all means adopted by God, to place the 
Church in the centre of the world, on a basis that would 
never again be shaken by any storm, to commence her 
visible and external mission amongst men, and to bring 
to her bosom all the nations of the earth. Immediately 
after the triumph of Constantine, she raised her head 
with independence; she shook off the appearance of 
weakness which shrouded her infancy, and showed the 
world that her existence and her mission were no longer 
doubtful, trembling, or destructible. In this sense, the 
triumph of Constantine is more glorious, more perfect, 
and more manifest to-day than sixteen centuries ago, 
when Catholicity was declared to be the religion of Rome. 
Although there were martyrs after the time of Constan¬ 
tine, and the persecution of Julian revived for an hour 
the tyranny of paganism, yet these were but the charac¬ 
teristics of the Church’s union with her crucified Master ; 
they were strokes of correction from the hands of a Father; 
they were not signs of weakness, but proofs of life and 
strength. She had never again to flee from amongst 
men; her Catacombs are abandoned to the sleeping dead 
who await resurrection, and the Coliseum will never 
again be the battlefield of her faith. Yet there was 
another martyrdom in the Coliseum. The streams of 
blood that flowed from the veins of perhaps a thousand 
martyrs of the faith had not filled up the measure of its 
iniquity ; there seemed to be still wanting some blood of 


THE LAST MARTYR. 


389 


another character ; and the last flow of the ruddy stream 
which was to complete the dreadful holocaust of human 
beings sacrificed in this mighty amphitheatre was to be 
the blood of a martyr of charity. Let us come to this 
last and touching scene, recorded of the martyrs of the 
Coliseum. 

One of the first acts of Constantine was to condemn 
by public edict those scenes of bloodshed, which were so 
uncongenial to the spirit of Christianity. This was an 
important event, not only in the history of the Coliseum, 
but in the history of Rome. The people loved these 
spectacles with a blind fanaticism. It had frequently hap¬ 
pened, in the past history of the city, that infuriated mobs, 
breathing violence and fury, and threatening to deluge 
the streets with patrician blood, were calmed by the games 
of the Circus and Coliseum. The popularity of each new 
Emperor depended in a great measure on the character of 
the games with which he entertained his subjects. In the 
midst of war, famine and public grief, they would pour 
in reckless crowds to the intoxication of the amphitheatre 
and the circus; the more blood to be shed, the greater 
the enthusiasm of the people ; the more impious and cruel 
the games, the greater was supposed to be the piety to 
the gods ! Hence the closing of the Coliseum was a des¬ 
perate step, which at other times would have caused a 
rebellion that would have cost the Emperor his throne. 
Although all the power of Constantine was brought to 
bear on the fulfilment of the edict, it was not until nearly 
a hundred years after his death that the last gladiatorial 
show took place in the Coliseum. 

Christianity was slowly, but surely, sweeping away 
every vestige of paganism from the city. The elevation 


390 THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 

of the female sex and the expulsion of slavery were 
leviathan undertakings that engrossed all her energies for 
nearly two centuries. Honorius renewed the prohibitory- 
law of Constantine, but to no purpose. The games were 
no longer maintained by the public purse, but there were 
found senators and nobles rich enough to rival the impe¬ 
rial entertainments of other days. The Coliseum had no 
longer its martyrs, but still it had its victims. At length 
the gentle influence of Christianity triumphed; the un¬ 
ceasing prayers of the Christians had pierced the clouds 
of heaven; even this most cherished institution of idola¬ 
try and infamy must yield to the regenerating spirit of 
the Church, and the Coliseum closed its long career of 
horror and bloodshed by a tragedy as terrible as any we 
have yet recorded, but redounding more to the glory and 
honour of that faith which conquered Rome. A poor monk 
named Telemachus, who had passed his life as a solitary 
in the deserts of the East, was inspired by God with a 
holy zeal to put an end to the profanities of the public 
spectacles. He succeeded, but it cost him his life. 

Far away in the depths of the Lybian deserts, he had 
heard the Coliseum of Rome was still reeking with the 
blood of human victims. ^Perhaps a description of its 
horrors was given to him by some fugitive penitent, who 
had learned the emptiness and dangers of the world, and 
had fled to solitude to prepare for eternity. He conceived 
the idea of making a generous effort to destroy this brutal 
passion; he felt that something should be done, even 
though he should have to leave his desert and shed his 
own blood in the undertaking. Long and fervently did 
he recommend the thought to God. In unbroken nights 
of prayer and fearful austerities, in many tears and deep 


THE LAST MARTYR. 


391 


humility, he prayed for some token of the divine will 
What could he do, he thought, a poor ignorant hermit, 
slow of speech, bare-footed, and clothed in coarse sack¬ 
cloth 1 Kings and Popes and martyrs had failed to era¬ 
dicate the evil, yet would he succeed 1 Fearing some 
delusion of Satan, he paused and doubted, but grace urged 
him on; an interior voice said to him: “ I can do all 
things in Him who comforts me.” He penetrated deeper 
into the trackless wilds of the desert to consult an old 
and experienced anchoret, who was a disciple of the great 
Paul, the first to sanctify those homeless regions. The 
aged monk told him to go, for God had accepted his 
sacrifice. 

At length he seizes his staff, and, with many tears, bids 
farewell to his beloved cell, his rude cross, and the little 
stream whose constant murmurs joined him in the praises 
of GocL The desert was a home of delights, but the 
world before him was dark and gloomy. No soldier ever 
moved with braver step to the battlefield than Telema- 
chus to his combat with the proud passions of men. He 
moves on through crowded cities, through cultivated 
plains and wild mountain passes—he seeks no roof but 
the open canopy of heaven; the stone in the desert has 
been the only pillow he has used for years past. After a 
journey of weeks and months, and perhaps years, at length 
wearied, footsore, but delighted, he arrived under the 
walls of the Eternal City. The brilliant sun of heaven 
was reflected from the glittering domes of the imperial 
metropolis of the world. The eyes of the poor monk 
were dazzled with temples covered with silver and gold, 
and interminable vistas of marble columns around palaces 
and theatres which were raised on every side with a mag* 


S92 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


nificence and splendour such as fancy would paint for the 
cities in the land of dreams. He enters the city, and moves 
through its crowded streets unconscious of the universal 
gaze of the people, who are attracted by his extraordinary 
dress. Some laugh, others insult him, all despise the 
poor monk, whom angels are leading to a sublime destiny. 

As far as we can learn, it was on the morning of the 
1st of January, A.D. 404, that Telemachus entered Rome. 
The games usually celebrated during the Kalends of 
January were inaugurated at the expense of a rich sena¬ 
tor; and although far inferior in magnificence, they 
exceeded in brutality the spectacles of the golden age. 
Telemachus moved with the crowd towards the amphi¬ 
theatre. When he mounted the Capitol, with its fifty 
temples still smoking with the sacrifices of abomination, 
he shuddered, for he knew the demons had still posses¬ 
sion of that part of the city. What were the emotions 
of his heart when another moment brought the mighty 
amphitheatre full into his view 1 It rose in the valley 
beneath the Capitol with stupendous majesty, towering 
over the temples and arches that lined the Forum—im¬ 
mense, like the Pyramids he had seen in his passage 
through Egypt, more beautiful than anything that had yet 
met his gaze in that city of wonders, and raised in the 
air higher than the surrounding hills, with a solidity that 
would seem to defy decay or the ravages of time. He 
descended the Way of Triumph, unconscious that he 
himself was walking to a triumph—one of the greatest 
the world ever saw. He passed under the arches where 
noble martyrs had been often dragged to be exposed to 
the wild beasts ; and a cold feeling of horror passed over 
him as he looked for the first time at the blood-stained 


THE LAST MARTYR. 


arena, whose horrors had haunted his dreams, whose con¬ 
version was the unceasing petition of his prayer. It 
was early in the day, and the games had not yet com¬ 
menced ; the people were pouring into the benches; he 
took a seat, and heedless of the buzz of a thousand voices 
around him, in a few moments became wrapt in commu¬ 
nion with God, as if he were praying on the banks of his 
little stream in the desert. 

Wrapt in prayer, with his hands folded on his breast, 
he seemed to the Eomans like a vision from the other 
world. His dress and strange appearance, the halo of 
sanctity which was suffused around the true servant of 
God, and which never can be concealed, made the gather¬ 
ing crowd gaze on him with mingled sentiments of con¬ 
tempt, surprise and reverence. Who or what is he? 
was asked by each wondering stranger as he suddenly 
stopped short to gaze on the extraordinary apparition 
that sat motionless on one of the benches. Some thought 
he was a poor fool, and was not to be minded; others 
said he was some truant slave from the East; others, 
again, that perhaps he was a messenger from the oracles, 
for those important persons were generally clothed fan¬ 
tastically, and wrapt in mystery and gloom. But another 
moment will show them that he indeed is a messenger 
from the oracles of Eternal Wisdom, to teach the world 
the great truths uttered in the revelations of the gospel. 

The games have commenced. Like Alipius, he is 
roused from his reverie by the inhuman shout that hails 
the first batch of combatants. Four naked, stout, and 
fierce-looking men have bounded into the arena; they 
feign cheerful looks, and each one is certain of being 
victorious. They march around the arena according to 


394 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


the old custom of the games, that the people may select 
their favourites to bet on them and anticipate their vic¬ 
tory. As they pass around, some take their last farewell 
by a long steady gaze and a kiss of the hand to some 
friend in the upper benches. In spite of their efforts to 
smile bravely on death, their countenances bear the pallid 
stamp of desperation, and nature betrays her fear of 
dissolution; it was a blind fury that made them hasten 
to the combat, not what the Romans call bravery. Now 
they are measuring swords and are matched by the pre¬ 
fect of the games; they pass a few moments in playful 
fencing with wooden swords; then come the glittering 
steel blades, burnished and brightened for the deadly 
struggle; they seize them, and in another moment the 
game of bloodshed has commenced. But see ! the monk 
has risen; he flies through the benches; he leaps over 
the iron rail of the podium, and with a giant hand seizes 
the combatants and whirls them round him. 

No pen could describe the scene that followed. The 
people were like a lion deprived of his prey by an inferior 
animal. Never did the old walls of the amphitheatre 
ring with a louder or wilder scream of frenzy; at the very 
moment their excitement was becoming intense, they 
were thwarted by this daring stranger, and their indigna¬ 
tion was roused to fury. We should give but a faint idea of 
the feelings of the mob when Telemachus appeared in the 
arena to stop the gladiators, if we imagined a capuchin 
monk, clothed in the sackcloth and cord of St. Francis, 
rushing on the stage of the Alhambra in London to 
reprove the indecent levities of its ballets. The gladia¬ 
tors were thunderstruck, and stood in terror as if in the 
presence of a supernatural being. The holy monk endea* 


THE LAST MARTYR. 


395 


voured to address the people, but they hissed, and hooted, 
and screamed with fiendish rage • and at length, as if 
unable to control themselves any longer, they tore up the 
seats and benches, and in a few minutes the air became 
filled with a shower of broken fragments of seats and 
pavements hurled from every side of the amphitheatre on 
the head of Telemachus. He knelt, and stretching his 
arms towards heaven, offered his life for the conversion 
of this great theatre of infamy. The martyr of charity 
fell, and covered in his fall one of the darkest stains on 
the arena of the amphitheatre. Where the venerable 
Ignatius and a host of others suffered, the body of this 
glorious martyr of charity fell beneath the heavy frag¬ 
ments of marble seats and ornaments hurled down upon 
him from every bench of the amphitheatre, then crowded 
with the demons who rejoiced in the degradation of the 
human race. Terrible as was the judgment wreaked on 
this poor unarmed monk for daring to thwart them in 
their cruel sports, yet that monk succeeded ; the gladia¬ 
tors he separated never met again. His sacrifice was 
accepted in heaven, the Coliseum was converted. The 
Emperor Honorius immediately prohibited all spectacles 
in the Coliseum, and sanctioned the law with the seve¬ 
rest penalties. There was one more desperate effort 
made a few years afterwards to resuscitate the murders 
of the amphitheatre—but the blood of Telemachus was 
triumphant—the inhuman sport of the gladiatorial spec¬ 
tacle was henceforward a stain of the past. In the noble 
self-sacrifice of one man, Christianity expiated the crimes 
of three hundred years, and raised the moral and rational 
character of the human species over the brutal passions 
that degraded it. 


396 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


The excitement of the people increased, and spread like 
a fire through every bench. Some fled in terror and sent 
alarming rumours through the city; the people flocked 
in additional thousands to the amphitheatre, and increased 
the noise and confusion. The prefect ordered the trum¬ 
pets to be sounded, and sent for the gladiators to resume 
the combats, but in vain; a decree was written in heaven 
which no human power could change. At length the 
military were ordered to disperse the crowd, and the 
sports of the day were declared to be terminated. 

We cannot but admire the zeal of Telemachus. We 
love to hang over this last tragedy of the Coliseum as 
one of the sublimest and most interesting of the early 
Church. One shudders indeed at the awful fate of the 
poor monk, but his pain was momentary. His sacrifice 
was the highest degree of virtue that man can exercise 
towards his fellow-man ; and now his crown is bright 
and eternal. His charity was that fire which consumes 
everything. It assumed a heroism of self-denial that is 
beyond nature; and gave him that shining mark by 
which men were to know he was the follower of the 
Saviour who loved so much. 

It must have appeared strange to the Romans that the 
death of one man could have produced such an unexpected 
result. The wonder increased when they heard that the 
murdered man was poor, a stranger, and a hated Chris¬ 
tian. Human life was of so little value in those days, 
that poor slaves were often put to death by tyrant mas¬ 
ters and mistresses for some accidental injury offered to a 
pet dog or cat. In the Coliseum especially, where it was 
not unusual to see a hundred gladiators fall in one day, 
death may be said to have been the most common spec- 


THE LAST MARTYR . 


397 


tacle witnessed in its arena. Yet the death of this poor 
monk not only separated the gladiators in their murder¬ 
ous attack on each other, and caused the crowd of cruel 
spectators to be dispersed into the streets, but it wrung 
from the supreme power of the Empire a definite and 
inviolable prohibition of this inhuman sport. So trium¬ 
phant, so perfect was the success of the mission of Tele- 
machus, that, not only in the Coliseum, but in all the 
amphitheatres throughout the Empire, the sword of the 
gladiator was broken in pieces, and the degrading profes¬ 
sion of being a skilful murderer was for ever annihilated. 
This is but one of the many facts recorded in history 
which show how the Catholic Church regenerated the 
world. The agents of Divine Providence have been 
little and despicable, but their works have been mira¬ 
culous and eternal in their influence on the destinies of 


men. 



CHAPTER XXIII. 


TELEMACHUS STILL TRIUMPHANT. 


1 . 


S IYE years after the tragedy we have described in 
the last chapter, the Coliseum witnessed another 
scene equally strange and thrilling. Not that 
there were any more martyrs to shed their blood in its 
sanctified arena, but every page in the history of this 
great ruin is a scene of horror. The powers of darkness 
made a desperate effort to restore the reign of terror in 
the Coliseum. For a moment they seemed to succeed; 
the blinded populace shouted with joy, and the slave was 
armed again with the sword of the gladiator. But He 
who accepted the sacrifice of Telemachus knew well how 
to thwart the designs of the impious, and, at the time in 
which it pleased Him, He scattered them like chaff before 
the wind. It was not without a dreadful struggle that 
the Romans gave up the fascinating bloodshed of their 
amphitheatre, and their last effort to restore its terrible 
spectacle was surrounded with horror and confusion that 
gives a thrilling finale to our chapter of blood. We give 
a scene from one of the most tremendous judgments of 
God in the history of man—the commencement of His 
greatest mercy ! 


TELEMACHUS STILL TRIUMPHANT . 399 

The hour of retaliation had at length dawned on Rome 
—that hour long set apart in the decrees of Providence 
for a fearful vindication of this unconverted city. The 
Goths and barbarian tribes from the north-east of the 
Empire were led on by Alaric to its plunder. These 
rough, uncouth tribes had been treasuring up in their 
traditions every defeat and every injustice they had suf¬ 
fered from the Roman arms. Long had their chiefs, like 
the prophets of old, uttered their prophetic woes against 
this proud queen of the universe. Revenge was their 
god, and the plunder of Rome was the elysium of their 
delights. When the hour came they were let loose by 
Almighty God, and five or six hundred thousand of the 
most brutal soldiers poured down towards the ill-fated 
city, and before the Romans knew their danger, Alaric 
had made his way through the beautiful plains of Italy, 
and the wreck of cities and smoking ruins were the traces 
of his victorious march. 

The Romans were indulging in every excess, and 
thought of nothing but the amusements of the Circus and 
the Coliseum. Their apathy and blindness to the terrible 
ruin which threatened them was the first sign of the fate 
that decreed their fall. The haughty Senate and patri¬ 
cians pretended to smile at the audacity of a barbarian 
king coming to attack their city. They looked at their 
arches of triumph, the trophies of victory beyond number 
that met their gaze on every side, the temples of so many 
gods, and of heroes and emperors deified for their deeds 
in arms; and with complacent pride they scorned the 
idea of their becoming a prey to a barbarian. How 
should she tremble, amid so many pledges of dominion, 
whose walls, cemented with the gore of so many captive 


400 THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 

victims, were sufficiently guarded by the terrors of the 
Boman name, and by the dreadful shades of so many 
conquerors ? But their arrogance was soon humbled by 
misfortune. Whilst they were yet reclining in their 
tricliniums, the bands of Alaric, impatient for the mo¬ 
ment of assault, came bursting through the marble halls 
and pleasure-grounds of her suburban villas, and rushed 
and thundered onwards over every opposition, until they 
broke like a deluge of blood and confusion against her 
gates. 

By a skilful disposition of his troops, Alaric encom¬ 
passed the walls, commanded the twelve principal gates, 
intercepted all communication with the adjoining coun¬ 
try, and diligently guarded the navigation of the Tiber, 
upon which Borne depended for the sustenance of her in¬ 
numerable population. The doomed city gradually ex¬ 
perienced the distress of scarcity, and at length the horrid 
calamities of famine. The hour of revenge had com¬ 
menced its horrors on the ill-fated city. The people be¬ 
gan to die in hundreds through hunger, and as the public 
sepulchres were outside the walls, and in the possession 
of the enemy, the stench that arose from so many putrid 
and unburied carcasses infected the air, and the miseries 
of famine were soon aggravated by those of pestilence. 

It was in this extremity that a deputation was sent 
from the Senate to the Gothic camp to sue for terms. 
When the members of the deputation were introduced to 
the tent of Alaric, they maintained a haughty bearing, to 
make it appear they were equally prepared for war or 
peace. They said, if the king of the Goths refused to 
sign a fair and honourable capitulation, he might sound 
his trumpets, and prepare to give battle to an innumer- 


TEL EM A CIIUS STH r TRIUMPHANT. 401 

able people inured to arms, and animated by despair. 
“ The thicker the grass, the easier it is mowed,” was the 
reply with which the barbarian mocked them, to the 
great amusement, of his officers, who burst into loud and 
insulting laughter at this stroke of rustic wit. He then 
dictated the terms on which alone they might expect to 
have the city spared :—The surrender into his hands of 
Ml the gold and silver within the walls of Rome, whether 
it belonged to the state or to individuals; all the rich and 
precious movables, and all the barbarians detained as 
slaves. 

“ If such, 0 king,” said one of the ambassadors, “ are 
the things you must have from us, may we ask what it is 
you intend to leave us ? ” 

“ Your lives,” replied the haughty conqueror. 

There being no longer any human hope, it was resolved 
by the Romans to resort once more to the aid of the 
immortal gods. It was alleged by some that the city of 
Narni had been recently saved from the Goths by certain 
mystic rites and sacrifices of the Etruscans, who were 
then in Rome; and these same execrable practices, con 
sisting in dark incantations by the gore of murdered 
captives, were solemnly performed by public edict from 
the Capitol. It was in vain that the Christian senators 
exclaimed against this horrible impiety; their voices 
were drowned in enthusiastic exclamations for the restor¬ 
ation of pagan rites, and in execrations and blasphemies 
of Christ. It is related by Sozomen, that the most reflect¬ 
ing of the Romans looked upon the calamities of the city 
as a just judgment on its incorrigible attachment to 
idolatry. But the lightnings of Jupiter were not hurled 
on the tents of the Goths; the horrors of famine and pesti- 
z 


402 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


lence increased, and the humbled Senate was forced to 
send another embassy to the enemy, to even beg for mercy. 
A temporary respite was purchased by the doomed city ; 
but she is weighed in the balance, and destined to fall. 
Alaric retired for the winter to the fair and fruitful 
regions of Tuscany, enriched by the wealth of the capital 
and reinforced by forty thousand slaves, who broke their 
chains, and joined the barbarian camp, in the hope of 
one day revenging the cruelties practised on them during 
their servitude. They had that revenge a few months 
afterwards; it was stern and terrible. 

The conditions of capitulation were not kept, and 
Alaric came with a portion of his troops to terrify them 
into compliance with their promise, or in reality to sack 
the city, for which he thirsted, in spite of all these com¬ 
promises and delays. On the occasion of his second 
investment of the city, the pagan Attalus was made 
Emperor at the dictation of Alaric. This man was raised 
to the purple for the sole purpose of being degraded, and 
that the imperial dignity itself might be disgraced and ex¬ 
posed to derision. A few weeks afterwards, the purple 
was ignominiously torn from his back, and himself and 
his courtiers made slaves to the barbarian king. Never¬ 
theless, during his brief career he did all he could to 
introduce the horrid superstitions of paganism. The 
smoke of impure sacrifices once more rose up from the 
city. The cruel sports of the Circus and the Coliseum 
were commenced again in honour of the immortal gods. 
The scene that passed in the Coliseum on this occasion is 
one amongst the strange reminiscences of this venerable 
pile. It is to introduce it to the reader that we have 
related the historical facts of the preceding pages. 


TELEMACHUS STILL TRIUMPHANT. 


403 


From the death of the monk Telemachus, the Coliseum 
had been silent. The gladiatorial profession was proscribed 
and through the horrors of the famine every animal in the 
city was slain. Yet the new Emperor must celebrate his 
accession to the crown by the games of the Circus and 
Coliseum. The people still clung with blind fanaticism to 
the institutions of the past ; they believed the gods 
delighted in scenes of bloodshed more than themselves, 
and to appease the imaginary tyrants that were supposed 
to sway the destinies of the Empire, the dried-up arena 
must flow again with the purple stream of human blood. 
Hence, some thousands of dying slaves were pushed into 
the arena to fight with each other for their lives. The 
plague and famine were raging around, and people were 
dropping dead in the streets; nevertheless, the benches 
of the Coliseum were filled with famishing myriads, who 
came to gaze in wild frenzy on the horrible spectacle. 

When Attalus and his pagan officers appeared in the 
royal tribune, he was not saluted with salvoes or vows for 
a long and protracted reign, but with the hideous clamour 
of the people demanding to have a price put on the bodies 
of the slaves who were about to be slain. But Almighty 
God did not permit the impiety to succeed. The 
wretched slaves would have allowed themselves to be 
slain like sheep, but they were so prostrate through hun¬ 
ger and sickness that they were not able to raise their 
arms against each other; they would have willingly 
submitted to their fate, for death would have been a wel¬ 
come release from their miseries. They called on the 
lictors to come and dispatch them ; they raised their 
hands towards their masters to kill them or give them 
food. The scene was one of the most terrible of all the 


404 THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 

horrors witnessed in this temple of the furies. A starv¬ 
ing mob poured into its marble benches to enjoy the cruel 
sport of a gladiatorial butchery, and then to feast on the 
flesh of its victims. The air was rent with blasphemies 
against every god, from Jupiter to Diocletian. The 
demons who revel in the miseries of mankind were pre¬ 
sent in countless legions, and consequently louder, and 
more terrible than every other sound, were the blasphe¬ 
mies against the sacred name of Christ. The slaves wept 
and moaned and screamed, and the mob howled louder 
and louder for food. The mock Emperor fled in terror ; 
the crowds were dispersed without the feast of human 
blood ; and in fear and confusion, amidst the shouts of 
pain and despair, mingled with the most horrible blasphe¬ 
mies ever uttered by man, the Homan populace took 
their adieu of their beloved gladiatorial shows. 

2 . 

But the horrors of this terrible day were but the com¬ 
mencement of a darker night of woe. The impieties of 
the brief reign of Attalus hastened the calamities that 
were hanging over the ill-fated city. Almost at the same 
moment when the pagan faction of the Homan people 
were endeavouring to re-establish the bloody scenes of 
the Coliseum, Alaric announced to his barbarians, who 
were wintering in the north, that they would march on 
the morrow for the long wished-for sack of Home. The 
news was received with shouts of joy ; the Dacian gladi¬ 
ator is not to die unavenged, for Alaric had said before 
Byron ;— 

“Arise, ye Goths, and glut your ire. 


TELEMACHUS STILL TRIUMPHANT. 


405 


The first scene in the awful drama of the degradation 
of Rome was the mockery of its king. The barbarian 
chief ordered Attalus to meet him on his march. The 
proud representative of the Caesars had no alternative but 
prompt obedience. Attalus came up to the Gothic host 
on a plain near Rimini, and not far from the spot where 
the first of the Csesars crossed the Rubicon to commence 
the great dynasty which Attalus was to close. Here he 
was ignominiously stript of purple and diadem before an 
immense concourse of Romans and barbarians, and the 
would-be Emperor of the world was told he might enjoy 
life as a slave in the service of the Gothic chief. When 
these indignities were completed, the order to resume the 
march was received with savage exultation, mingled with 
peals of laughter at the mock majesty and sudden down¬ 
fall of the Roman Emperor. Alaric and his armed bands 
are now in the hands of Heaven for a terrible vindication 
of the insulted majesty of that God whose sacred name in 
humanity was at that very hour blasphemed within the 
walls of Rome. On his march, when passing a narrow 
defile in the Apennines, a holy hermit threw himself 
before him to intercede for the doomed city. 

“ Servant of Heaven/’ cried Alaric, “ seek not to turn 
me from my mission. It is not from choice I lead my 
army against that devoted place ; but some invisible 
power that will not suffer me to halt for a single day 
urges me on by violence, continually crying out to me 
without ceasing : ‘ Forward ! march upon that city—upon 
Rome, and make it desolate ! ’ ” 

At the hour of midnight, the Salarian gate was silently 
opened, and the Romans were, suddenly awakened by the 
tremendous sound of the Gothic trumpet. Thus was the 


406 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


mystical Babylon, like its prophetic type, the city of 
Belshazzar t surprised in the midst of its security. The 
Romans had such confidence in their lofty rock-built 
walls, that like the Babylonians when the Persians sur¬ 
rounded their city, they indulged in their accustomed 
revels, and then retired to their beds without even 
the slightest shadow of apprehension. Procopius says 
the senators were fast asleep when the Goths were enter¬ 
ing the gates. 

“ The cruelties exercised on this occasion,” says the 
Italian annalist, “ cannot be related without shedding 
tears. The city, constructed as it were of the spoils, and 
overflowing with the tribute of so many nations, was now 
at the mercy of the infuriated barbarians. They were 
lighted on their way by flaming palaces and temples, 
from the villa of Sallust—a perfect sanctuary and garden 
of Epicurus—on to the Suburra, the Forum, the Capitol, 
and, above all, to the golden house of Nero. They were 
guided in their pursuit of plunder and blood by the forty 
thousand fugitives, who laboured, during that night of 
horrors, with more assiduity than ever they had shown 
under their taskmasters’stripes, to requite the offices they 
had received at Roman hands, and to wash out in patri¬ 
cian gore the hateful vestiges of their chains. The un¬ 
utterable, barbarities which Rome had so often perpetrated 
during the sieges and massacres and burnings of a thou¬ 
sand years, were now retaliated vigorously on herself. 
Her nobles were subjected to tortures the most cruel and 
ignominious, to wring from them their hidden treasures ; 
the plebeians were mowed down in such multitudes that 
the survivors did not suffice to bury the dead. The 
Forum, the Circus, and the Coliseum, the Capitol, the 


TELEMACHUS STILL TRIUMPHANT. 


407 


streets, the theatres, the baths and temples, ran with 
blood. The palace halls and chambers were scenes of the 
most brutal debauchery, immorality and murder. The 
seven-hilled city was in flames ; the trophies and monu¬ 
ments in which the lords of the earth most prided them¬ 
selves were the chief objects of Gothic rage; and Orosius 
relates that it was said by eye-witnesses of these terrors, 
that the trophies, temples, and other public edifices, that 
defied by their solidity the brands of the barbarians, were 
struck with thunderbolts from heaven. 

But the Almighty, whilst punishing with so terrible a 
chastisement the obstinate remains of paganism in Borne, 
caused His mercy to shine forth at the same time with 
His justice. He preserved the Christians by a miracu¬ 
lous interposition of His providence. He inspired the 
barbarians with a respect and reverence for the unoffend¬ 
ing members of His Church, so that in the midst of all 
the horrors and confusion of the sack of the city, they 
were led by the barbarians themselves to places of security. 
The Coliseum was a witness to this miracle. It happened 
thus :— 

It was proclaimed by the king of the Goths that he 
warred not against St. Peter. He ordered the churches 
and places consecrated to Christian purposes to be re¬ 
spected ; appointed the two great Basilicas of the Apostles 
as inviolable sanctuaries of refuge ; and so strictly was 
this order observed, that the soldiers not only halted in 
their career of slaughter on arriving at these hallowed 
precincts, but many of them conducted thither such as 
moved them to pity, that, under the protection of the 
Apostles they might be saved from the rage of those who 
might not be found equally compassionate. As the bar- 


403 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


barians were rushing in every direction through the city 
in quest of plunder, it happened that a holy virgin, who 
had grown old in the divine service to which she had 
consecrated her whole life, was discovered in her convent 
b 3 ' a Gothic chief, who demanded all the gold and silver 
in her possession. She replied with Christian composure, 
that the treasures in her keeping were immense ; but 
while the Goth stood in admiration and astonishment, 
gazing at the splendid hoard of massive gold and silver 
vessels which she revealed, the virgin of Christ observed: 
“ Before you are the sacred vessels used in the divine 
mysteries at the altar of St. Peter the Apostle ; presume 
to touch them if you be so minded ; but mark ! the con¬ 
sequences of your sacrilege shall be on your own head; 
as for me, too feeble to defend them, I shall not vainly 
attempt resistance.” 

Struck with reverence and religious awe, and not a 
little moved by the holy enthusiasm of the nun, the chief, 
without attempting to lay his hand upon the sacred trea¬ 
sure, sent word of what had happened to King Alaric. 
An instant and peremptory order was returned to have 
all the vessels promptly conveyed to the Basilica of the 
Apostle, and to guard and protect the nun and all the 
other Christians who should chance to join in the pro¬ 
cession. The convent was situated on the Ccelian Hill 
(probably near the Lateran), so that the entire city was 
to be traversed in order to reach St. Peter’s. It was then 
that an astounding spectacle presented itself to the eyes 
of all. Through the greatest thoroughfares of the city, 
and amidst all the horrors of that night, a solemn train is 
seen advancing, with the same order and measured step 
as if it moved not through scenes of slaughter, violence 


TELEMACHUS STILL TRIUMPHANT. 


409 


and conflagration, but through hallowed aisles on some 
joyous festival. A martial retinue of the Goths marches 
as a guard of honour, to adorn the procession with their 
glittering arms, and to defend their devout companions 
who bear the sacred vessels of massive gold and silver 
aloft on their heads. The voices of the barbarians are 
united with those of the Romans to swell the hymns of 
Christian praise; and these sounds are heard like the 
trumpet of salvation, re-echoing far and wide through the 
destruction of the city. The Christians start in their 
hiding-places as they recognise the celestial canticles, and 
crowd from every direction to follow the vessels of St. 
Peter. Multitudes of the pagans themselves, joining 
loudly in the hymn of Christ, take part in the procession, 
and thus escape under the shadow of the sacred name, 
that they may live to assail it with greater violence than 
ever. 

We mentioned that the Coliseum was a witness to this 
wonderful procession. It passed under its very arches, 
and the mighty womb of its interior echoed for the first 
time perhaps the Christian song of praise. Some 
hundreds of frightened and despairing wretches had taken 
shelter in its long corridors and dark arches; they knew 
it was impervious to the fire-brands of the enemy, and no 
human arm could shake its massive travertine. There 
were some Christians amongst them ; and no sooner did 
they hear the well-known tones of the Psalms of David, 
than they rushed from their hiding-places in wonder, to 
join the bands of the children of Israel, led by a super¬ 
natural interposition from the woes that were increasing 
around them. Joined by the fugitives from every side, 
the pageant seemed interminable ; and in proportion as 


410 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM . 


it is lengthened by new accessions, the barbarians vie 
with each other for the privilege of marching as guards 
on either side, armed with their battle-axes and naked 
swords. 

Thus it was that Heaven displayed its power to con¬ 
duct the objects of its solicitude, through the very midst 
of despair and death, to a harbour of safety. The city 
was as it were sifted of the Christians that still remained 
in it, by means of this procession. In the very crisis of 
ruin they were separated and saved from the common 
havoc by the intervention of angels. But the most 
astounding feature of the miracle was the sudden transi¬ 
tion of the Goths from fury to mildness. They aban¬ 
doned the pursuit of plunder, and wielded their reeking 
weapons to protect the lives and treasures of their van 
quished enemies. 



CHAPTER XXIY. 


THE COLISEUM IN THE MIDDLE AGES. 


U Vy LTHOUGH the dynasty of Romulus and Augus- 
tus had closed,” says the author of “ Rome as she 
Wasand as sheBecame,” “the genius of paganism 
had not yet expired. Surviving the enormous empire it 
had so long animated with unearthly vigour, and invested 
with majesty so terrible, this direful spirit sat brooding 
yet among the ruins of the seven hills. Its retrospects 
were not those of repentance, but of desperation; its 
antichristian feeling was, if possible, more malignant than 
in the days when a Nero or a Julian officiated as its pon¬ 
tiffs. Its only solace was to lay the odium of all the 
calamities of the -world at the door of Christianity, to 
mutter curses against it, and to defend with might and 
main every surviving vestige of superstition.” 

The spirit of paganism still lingered within the walls 
of the amphitheatre. It had no longer its martyrs and 
gladiators, but yet there was many a noble victim to its 
cruel and bloody sport. The combats of men with beasts 
were not forbidden by law, and were continued for nearly 
another hundred years. This species of amusement was 
sanctioned by Honorius and Theodosius, who both re¬ 
gulated the law concerning the hunting of wild beasts, 


412 THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 

in order that certain countries might be reserves, in 
which the imperial ministers alone could hunt to procure 
wild beasts for the games of the Circus and the Coliseum. 

No sooner had the Goths passed away, loaded with 
the spoils of the city, than the Romans, who had 
escaped the horrors of the siege, and had secreted them¬ 
selves in the hills of Alba Longa, on the mountains of 
Tibur, returned to the city. 

“ It is not to mourn over tombs,” says the author just 
quoted, “ or to supplicate around altars, but to hasten to 
their beloved Circus, that the fugitives pour back like the 
tide to a strand deformed with wrecks. There they 
vociferate that all they require are spectacles, and daily 
rations as of old, to indemnify them for the visits of 
the Goths. The crowds that had so lately fled before the 
swords of the barbarians were soon recalled by the hopes 
of plenty and pleasure. The queen of the seven hills 
replaced her crown of laurel, and haughtily readjusted it 
as if it had only been slightly ruffled by the storms of 
war.” 

Cassiodorus, who flourished in the first twenty years of 
the sixth century, as secretary to King Theodoric, tells 
us, in the fifth book of his Varieties, that these games 
with the beasts, which he calls detestable, not only 
existed in his time, but there was a kind of necessity for 
maintaining them, to gratify the depraved tastes of the 
people. The days of their greatness are passed, and that 
indomitable spirit, that was only fanned into irresistible 
fury by a slight defeat, is crumbled to dust like the 
trophies of its past victories. The Goths have quietly 
moved away with their spoils, and no sword is raised to 
avenge the insult ; no veteran bands are rallied under 


THE COLISEUM IN TI1E MIDDLE AGES. 413 

the victorious eagle to chase the barbarians to their 
mountain homes, or to avenge the ruin they had wrought 
on the imperial city. There was a time when Rome 
alone would have annihilated for ever the very name 01 
the barbarian race that should dare to cross the distant 
frontier of the empire. But that day is gone ; the martial 
spirit of the people has fled, and the hour of judgment 
has come; the greatest glory and skill in arms that is 
now applauded by this fallen people, is the triumph oi 
the bestiaries in the arena of the Coliseum. 

The last reference we find made to these games is in 
the Chronicle of Senator. He relates that, about the 
year 519 of Christ, when Cilica Generus was elected 
consul, he celebrated his nomination by great games in 
the amphitheatre. He caused an immense quantity of 
wild beasts to be brought with great expense from Africa, 
and they were all slain in a few days in that arena, not 
yet surfeited with the blood of perhaps millions of 
victims. After this Rome passed through two centuries 
of misfortune and woe; the wails of grief and anguish 
from the starving and dying multitudes were not broken 
for a moment by the wild shout from the Circus or the 
Coliseum. Under the repeated sieges of the Goths, and 
the last terrible devastation under Attila, the city be¬ 
came a ruin around the gigantic amphitheatre, which 
seemed to raise its indestructible walls higher and more 
majestically over the ruins of fallen palaces and temples 
that strewed the plain around it. 

At the commencement of the seventh century, when 
the sunshine of peace in the new dynasty of the papacy 
commenced to dawn on the ill-fated city, the Coliseum, 


414 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM . 


although abandoned, stood alone, amid a wilderness of 
desolation, “a noble monument of ruinous perfection.’* 
Eich and luxuriant was the grass that grew in its 
abandoned arena; the seeds of flowers and weeds that 
floated on the gentle zephyrs were arrested in their 
flight by the mountains of masonry, and soon its bleak 
walls were decorated with a thousand blossoms. The 
wild winter wind howled through its long dark vomi¬ 
tories with ghostly echoes, and the still more solemn 
scream of the bird of solitude rang loud and shrill from 
its eyry amid the crumbling supports of the mighty 
velarium. Those walls, that so often shook with the 
thunders of a hundred thousand voices, were shrouded 
with the silence of death; no human sound broke the 
dreadful stillness, save the cautious step of some truant 
schoolboy hiding in its corridors ; or the exclamations 
of delight from some wondering antiquary pausing to 
admire its marvels of science and art; or, perhaps, the 
gentle murmur of prayer breathed by the kneeling pil¬ 
grim in the blood-stained battlefield of the Church’s mar¬ 
tyrs. Amongst the pilgrims to this sacred spot were 
bishops and cardinals, and the great Pope Gregory, in 
whose hands the clay of the arena turned into blood. 
Here, too, came in the same century the Patriarch of the 
western monks, under the cowl he had adopted as the 
helmet of the spiritual legions who were to fight under 
the papal king against the powers of darkness. It was 
one of Benedict’s disciples that broke the silence of his¬ 
tory in those centuries, when he visited this greatest 
monument of the past, in his pilgrimage to the eternal 
city. A stronger or more beautiful panegyric of the great 
amphitheatre could scarcely be penned, than the sublime 


THE COLISEUM IN THE MIDDLE AGES. 415 


prophecy uttered by Venerable Bede towards the end of 
the seventh century— 

“ While stands the Coliseum, Rome shall stand ; 

When falls the Coliseum, Rome shall fall; 

And when Rome falls, the world.” 

Some doubt is expressed by modern historians as to 
the precise time when the immense fabric commenced to 
crumble to decay. Many suppose it must have suffered, 
like most of the great buildings of the city, during the 
Gothic reign of terror and ruin; but from the expres¬ 
sion of contemporary writers, Marangoni and other anti¬ 
quaries are of opinion, that it remained in a perfect state 
up to the end of the eleventh century. The immensity 
and massive denseness of its travertine walls seem to 
have defied all efforts to level it; even in its present 
ruinous state, whilst only two-thirds of the original struc¬ 
ture exist, it would take a thousand men several months 
to make it even a heap of rubbish. The Goths, who 
found easier prey in the minor buildings of the city, left 
this splendid monument to moulder under the slow but • 
certain ruin of time. But the political commotions oi 
the latter part of the eleventh century drew around the 
amphitheatre another terrible wave of devastation and 
ruin, in which its massive and imperishable walls were 
shaken and disfigured. This happened in the Pontifi¬ 
cate of St. Gregory VII., about the year of our Lord 
1084. 

Gregory, who was known in his earlier career as the 
deacon Hildebrand, was a poor austere monk, raised by 
Almighty God to the chair of Peter, in order that, by his 
sanctity and prudence, he might stem the progress of 


416 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


sinful abuses which were creeping into the very sanctuary 
of the Church. At the time of his election, the whole 
German Empire groaned under the tyranny and curse of 
a bad and immoral king. A greater contrast could not 
be conceived, than the dissolute morals of Henry IV., 
and the blameless life of the austere monk whom he was 
permitted to confirm as the successor of St. Peter. The 
terrible strife between virtue and vice, which charac¬ 
terises the reign of Gregory VII., was foreshadowed in 
the letter which the newly elected Pope sent to this im¬ 
pious king, to persuade him to prevent his nomination ; 
“ for,” said he, “ if I be declared Pope, I shall have to 
punish you for your crimes.” His election was confirmed, 
for Heaven had decreed it. After long endurance, and 
vainly waiting in the patience of his hope for the conver¬ 
sion of Henry, he at length excommunicated him, and 
deprived him of his throne. The impious German sus¬ 
tained the cause of Gilbert the Anti-pope, and marched 
on Rome. He encamped in the Vatican fields; but a 
sudden and unexpected attack, by a handful of the Pope’s 
soldiers, completely surprised and disconcerted his army; 
a plague broke out amongst his troops, and he was 
obliged to retreat to the north. 

He came a second time, with a larger force, and greater 
hatred against the successor of St. Peter. He besieged 
the city once more. He set fire to St, Peter’s, but the 
Roman people, under the immediate presence of Gregory 
himself, extinguished the flames before they had injured 
the Basilica. At length, after a siege of two years, by 
bribery, the Lateran gate was opened to the German, 
and Gregory took refuge in the Castle of St. Angelo. 
For a month they surrounded the colossal tomb of Adrian, 


THE COLISEUM IN’ THE MIDDLE AGES . 417 


and tried in vain to seize the Pope, or even to pass the 
bridge, to take possession of St. Peter’s. Relief came to 
the imprisoned Pontiff, in the person of Robert de Guis- 
card, a Norman captain, but a feudal chief, of the Papal 
dominions. He was a hard, unfeeling conqueror, whose 
cruelties had already been condemned by the very Pon¬ 
tiff he came to save. Henry fled at his approach; but 
his partisans and a great number of the Roman people 
dared to resist Guiscard; but they paid dearly for it. 
The haughty conqueror did not hesitate a moment; he 
burnt the city, and cut his way with the sword till he 
reached the Castle of St. Angelo, and freed its papal 
prisoner. 

On this occasion, it was the friends of order, and not 
its enemies, that endeavoured to sweep from the face of 
the earth every vestige that still remained of pagan Rome. 
The whole city, from St. John’s Lateran up to the Capi¬ 
tol, was laid in ruins. Some of the most remarkable 
monuments of antiquity, which had escaped to a great 
extent the fury of the Goths, and which still were the 
pride and glory of the city, fell under the iron hand of 
the enraged Guiscard. When he had gained the Capitol, 
over a field of smoking ruins, the people saw his despe¬ 
rate resolution to destroy the city. They gave up the 
Pope; Guiscard took him away to a quiet retreat in 
Salerno, where the great and holy Gregory sank under 
his many trials. 

It would be difficult to say how much of the Coliseum 
was ruined on this occasion. Marangoni, whom we be¬ 
lieve to be the most critical in his research, says : “ Not 
only all that could be destroyed by fire within its rock- 
builb walls, but its beautiful and artistic porticoes were 
AA 


418 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


ruined in the unsparing revenge of this friendly Goth. 
The seats in the interior were nearly all marble, but still 
there were wooden benches in the upper tiers, besides 
supports and ornaments, scattered through the immense 
fabric. That portion which looks towards the Ccelian 
hill, and the arch of Constantine bore in a particular 
manner the brunt of this storm, and it was from the fallen 
masses that lay here in crumbling heaps, that the material 
of several of the palaces of modern Rome was afterwards 
taken, as from an immense quarry of brick and traver¬ 
tine. Many of the Popes and Cardinals have been 
accused, by superficial writers, of being the first spoilers of 
this beautiful edifice; indignant antiquaries despise the 
names of Paul the Second and the Cardinals Riario and 
Farnese, as having ruthlessly plundered this majestic 
monument of the past, to raise palaces of luxuriant splen¬ 
dour amid the despicable and irregular homes of the 
mediaeval city. The truth is, that these men, who were 
animated by laudable motives to enrich and embellish 
the city, were only guilty of removing indiscriminate 
heaps of rubbish which lay for centuries around the old 
walls of the amphitheatre, as the sad traces of the re¬ 
venge of Guiscard.” But more of this question further 
on. 

Soon after the demise of Gregory VII., the Coliseum 
was turned into a fortress. The political disturbances 
and parricidal rebellions of the children of the Church 
had reached the summit of their fury, and it is not at all 
improbable, that some of the immediate successors of 
Gregory took refuge from the fury of the storm within 
the walls of the Coliseum. The Pontiffs who reigned in 
those troubled times had to encounter greater perils than 


THE COLISEUM IN THE MIDDLE AGES. 419 


their predecessors, when they celebrated the holy mys¬ 
teries in the dark caves of the earth. Rival factions had 
divided the city between them : the tombs and theatres 
of the old Empire became the castles and fortresses of the 
new aspirants to power. The Orsini had taken possession 
of the Castle of St. Angelo ; the Colonnas were masters 
of the Mausoleum of Augustus ; and the Frangepani, the 
most powerful of all, fortified the Coliseum. Surely the 
untravelled reader will wonder how the tombs of the 
dead became strongholds of war. Do we really mean 
that the mouldering monuments of the forgotten dead 
are filled with thousands of armed men, and become im¬ 
pregnable fortresses 1 

Such was the stupendous magnificence of the mauso¬ 
leums of Imperial Rome, that even now, after the storms 
and wars of two thousand years, their mighty ruins are 
still the pride of the city. The imperishable walls of the 
tomb of Adrian form to-day the only castle and fortress 
in the possession of the legitimate successor to the throne 
of the Caesars, Pius IX. 

Muratori relates that, when Innocent II. ascended the 
throne, he took refuge under the protection of the Fran¬ 
gepani family in their palace and fortress of the Coliseum, 
being forced from the Lateran palace by the Anti-pope 
Gilbert, the same who raised his impious arm against the 
sainted Gregory VII. (“ Ad tutas domos Frangepanumde 
Laterano descendit, et apud Sanctam Mariam novam et 
Cartularium atque Coliseum,” &c.) In the history of Fr. 
Tolomeo, Bishop of Torcello, a contemporary, we find the 
same corroborated in these words : “ Se recollegit in do- 
mibus Frangepanensium quae erant infra Coliseum ; quia 
dicta munitio fuit tota eorum ” (He secured himself in 


420 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


the abodes of the Frangepani, which were within the Co¬ 
liseum, for that fortress was entirely theirs). Passing 
over uninteresting details of the amphitheatre as a fortress, 
changing proprietors according to the fortunes of war, we 
will bring our readers to a strange scene that happened 
within its walls in the year 1332. 

Nearly six centuries have passed since the Coliseum 
rang with the deafening shout of a fascinated crowd of 
spectators. Many and strange the vicissitudes it has 
passed through since its last bloody entertainment. 
Through every century from its foundation, its history 
was entwined with the sorrows of the Roman people. 
Although it no longer echoed the plaintive sigh of the 
dying gladiator, yet many a wail of grief broke the soli¬ 
tude of its deserted seats. Its walls were smoked by 
fire, were shaken and destroyed in some places by the 
lightning of heaven, and disfigured in others by the im¬ 
plements of war. The wreck and ruin of every element 
of destruction that humbles man in the proudest of his 
works, had shorn the mighty amphitheatre of its magni¬ 
ficent details, leaving its rocky skeleton as a monument 
of genius and art, triumphant over savage and brutal 
force. Its reminiscences are gathering deeper interest 
as centuries roll on, and the ever-changing vicissitudes of 
time give its history a varied page. Strange and inte¬ 
resting is the scene that is now before us. Its dilapidated 
tiers are once more filled with thousands of people, the 
arena is again tinged with blood, and the deafening 
chorus of an excited crowd is echoed through the ruins of 
the fallen city. It would seem that the spirits of the old 
Romans were permitted to leave the gloomy realms of 
Pluto, to revel for an hour in the great theatre that was 


THE COLISEUM IN THE MIDDLE AGES. 421 


for many centuries the scene of their pleasure and their 
infamy. This extraordinary reunion in the Coliseum 
took place under the following circumstances :— 

During the abodes of the Popes at Avignon in the year 
1305, Clement V., endeavouring to quell the internal dis¬ 
sensions that robbed Rome of its peace, sent three Car¬ 
dinal Legates into Italy, and gave them power to act in 
his name for the peace of the people. It was during this 
administration that the Coliseum was transferred to the 
Senate. Muratori, who mentions the circumstance, does 
not give the date of this transfer, but merely intimates 
that it was during the years 1328 and 1340. Just at this 
period a profound peace reigned in the city. The impious 
King Luis of Baniera had retreated to the north, and his 
Anti-pope, Nicholas II., was hooted and even stoned out 
of the city by the repentant Romans. A few years of 
sunshine and calm, so unusual in those centuries of poli¬ 
tical storms, gave the people an opportunity of indulging 
in some of the pastimes of peace. The senators wished 
to show their joy and gratitude for the munificent gift of 
the Coliseum-, and determined to open the amphitheatre 
once more with some great spectacle for the people. A 
grand bull-fight—a species of cruel amusement w T hich had 
become very popular in the southern countries of Europe 
at this time—was proposed to commemorate this great, 
event. 

All the nobles of Italy were invited to take part in 
this entertainment, and for weeks and months previous 
preparations were made for the reunion. The Coliseum 
became the workshop of a thousand artisans ; the sound 
of the mallet and the hammer has taken the place of the 
clanging of arms and trumpets, and the ribald songs of 


422 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


soldiers. Temporary benches were erected on the mas¬ 
sive framework of brick and travertine, and the d6bris 
that had choked the passages and disfigured the arena 
were completely removed. All the preparations being 
finished, the day for the great entertainment was fixed 
for the 3rd of September, 1332. 

It was indeed a strange sight to see the Romans hasten¬ 
ing enthusiastically to the long-forgotten pagan amuse¬ 
ments of their city. All business was suspended, and 
thousands of gay sight-seers poured in from the neighbour¬ 
ing towns and villages. Early after daybreak the crowd 
commenced to gather round the old amphitheatre. The 
noble ladies of the city came in three parties—all in full 
dress, and led by three beautiful and wealthy princes, 
unanimously elected by the different groups. We can 
agreeably fancy ourselves standing in the old arena, and 
see the ever-increasing tide of gay colours and gayer faces 
pouring into the benches. We have often stood in imagi¬ 
nation in the same spot, whilst recording in these pages 
the scenes of the first centuries. Now we miss, indeed, 
the strong giant frame of the ancient Romans, and the 
dazzling gold and jewelled dais of the Emperor’s seat; 
there is no gorgeous velarium to stay the rays of the 
scorching sun, and disperse them in soft mellow tints; 
the podium is no longer glittering with the wealth of 
the Empire ; the senators are few, and the graceful toga 
has disappeared; no vestal virgins or lying augurs lend 
contrast to the colours by the peculiarities of their dress, 
and impart a religious solemnity by their presence to the 
amusements of impiety. The banners of the noble 
families float over the arena, and represent the ruling 
powers of the fallen Empire, for in these days every no- 


THE COLISEUM IN THE MIDDLE AGES. 423 

bleman was a king in his own fortress. Yet the people 
are peaceable and orderly, the ear is not offended by hor¬ 
rible blasphemies against the true God, no obscenities 
and shameful immoralities beguile the time of the wait¬ 
ing crowd ; the demon of paganism no longer sat on the 
imperial throne. This was the first, but will not be the 
last, Christian gathering within the walls of the Coliseum. 

Those who were to engage in the combat against the bulls 
were all, without exception, the sons of noblemen. We find 
amongst them names of families still flourishing amongst 
the aristocracy of Italy. The young men were dressed 
in the richest colours, and each bore a motto on his fore¬ 
head ; this was generally some short sentence expressing 
virtue and courage, and culled from remarkable events in 
the past history of the city. We will give from Muratori 
a few of the most interesting and beautiful. They were 
called out by lot, and the first to appear in the arena, 
amid the deafening greetings of the crowd, was Galeotto 
Malatesta, of Rimini. He was dressed entirely in green, 
carried in his hand a naked sword of ancient shape, and on 
a cap of iron he had these words “ I alone am like Hor¬ 
ace ! ” Then came Cicco della Yalle, dressed half black, 
and half white, and from a scimitar-like sword 
there hung a purple ribbon with these words in gold 
“ I am Eneas for Lavinia! ” Mezzo Astalli was 
clothed entirely in black, because he was in mourning for 
his wife, and his motto was “ Thus disconsolate do I 
live ! ” Young Cafferello was dressed in a lion’s skin, and 
had for motto “ Who is stronger than I ? ” 

The son of Messer Lodovico della Palenta, from Ra¬ 
venna, clothed in red and gold, bore on his forehead “ If 
I die covered with blood, sweet death ! ” Savello di 


424 THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM, 

Anagni, all yellow, with motto “ Let every one beware 
of the folly of love.” Cecco Conti had a beautiful dress 
of the colour of silver, and these words “ Thus is faith 
white.” Pietro Cappocci, dressed in the colour of 
the carnation flower, had these words round his 
neck “ I am the slave of the Eoman Lucretia ; ” meaning 
that he was the slave of chastity, personified in the 
chaste Lucretia of ancient Pome. 

There were three of the Colonna family, who were the 
most powerful in Rome at this time, being in possession 
of the Capitol; they were dressed in white and green, 
and their mottoes were tinged with pride on account of 
their power. The eldest had “ If I fall, ye who look on 
me will also fall,” intimating that they were the honour 
and support of the city; the second had “ So much 
the greater so much the stronger; ” and the third “ Sor¬ 
rowful but powerful.” 

Thus about fifty noblemen, young, healthy, and beauti¬ 
ful, bounded into the arena, all exquisitely dressed ; the 
sun sparkled from burnished swords and jewelled buckles; 
the colours of the rainbow mingled together in every va¬ 
riety of contrast, giving brilliancy to the scene. But this 
amusement had a tragic end, perfectly in keeping with 
the blood-stained history of the Coliseum. Many of the 
young men dressed so gaily are but a few moments from 
a terrible death and eternity; before the sun set on 
that day of cruel sport, many a wail of sorrow rent the 
warm air. The scene reminds us of a pleasure party caught 
in the rapids of Niagara. Amidst dancing and music 
and the blinding joys of intemperance, they recklessly turn 
the boat’s head to the rapids, hoping to rescue themselves 
before the terrible fall, but too late ; the oars are power- 


THE COLISEUM IN THE MIDDLE AGES. 425 


less; the helm disobeys ; one moment, and they are whirl¬ 
ing over the seething mass and hurled into the abyss. In 
the wild folly of youthful vanity those noble young men 
built castles of valour, and easy conquests over the infu¬ 
riated bulls ; they relied too much on their agility, the 
sharpness of their swords, and the strength of their arms. 
During the day’s amusement, eighteen of the flower of 
the Italian nobility were slain and nine wounded. 

As may be imagined, bull-fighting met with no further 
encouragement in the eternal city. For a few hours of 
brutal amusement, noble houses were deprived of their 
support, and heirs and families were cast into mourning 
and gloom ; that day became a sad anniversary in the 
calendar of many a mother, wife or betrothed one. The 
games were to last several days, but the fatal consequences 
of the first sufficiently cooled the public ardour ; in¬ 
stead of pouring again delighted crowds to the Coliseum, 
as the old Romans were wont to do, they went in mourn¬ 
ing and sorrow to the Church of St. John Lateran, to 
assist at the obsequies of the fallen young men. Their 
mangled bodies were laid in the same tomb in the nave 
of the Basilica, where they have been now sleeping for five 
centuries, uncared for and unknown ; pilgrims from every 
land under the sun tread thoughtlessly on the mosaic 
pavement that covers their forgotten tomb ; they wake 
not for the loud peals of the organ and choir that ring 
through the majestic aisles of this maternal Basilica ; they 
await the music of the trumpets of the last day. 



CHAPTER XXV. 

OTHER REMARKABLE EVENTS. 

S WO centuries of silence have rolled over the Coli¬ 
seum since the fatal events narrated in the last 
chapter. Sixteen hundred years had now left the 
traces of their passage on its crumbling walls. It was, 
however, comparatively perfect when man came to the 
assistance of time to destroy the noble ruin. For half a 
century, all the power of the lever, the crane, and the 
buffalo, were employed to drag its immense boulders of 
travertine from their rocky bed. We have said silence 
hung over the mighty ruin, but we mean the silence of 
history, and the absence of countless crowds yelling with 
frantic joy ; yet there was the clear-ringing sound of the 
stone-cutter’s hammer; there was the creaking of the 
ponderous cranes, lifting huge masses of stone, and the 
veil-known cry of the buffalo-driver calling his beasts by 
lame, and forcing them by the steel goad to drag away 
die rifled marble travertine of the last and greatest 
nonument of ancient Rome. Not only the masses which 
were loosened and had fallen to decay, but an immense 
quantity of the intact building was quarried away to em¬ 
bellish the city, that has arisen on the very ddbris of the 
mighty Rome of the past. 


OTHER REMARKABLE EVENTS. 


427 


Some historians have endeavoured to brand the authors 
of this spoliation with the guilt of sacrilege; and Gibbon, 
speaking of the Coliseum, says: “ Of whose ruin, the 
nephews of Paul III. have been the guilty agents, and 
every traveller who views the Farnese Palace, may curse 
the sacrilege and luxury of these upstart princes.” Perhaps 
if those who helped to ruin the Coliseum had not been 
princes of the Church, the criticism might have been less 
severe. It must also be remembered that the Farnese Pal¬ 
ace was erected from the designs of Sangallo, under 
the immediate direction of Michael Angelo, and is uni¬ 
versally admitted to be one of the finest palaces in 
Rome, perhaps in the world. Whilst its magnificence 
and artistic perfection give rise to expressions of wonder 
and delight, enough of the Coliseum remains to tell its 
own tale of splendour and immensity. Not only the 
Farnese, but the Cancel]eria, St. Mark’s, and the fronts 
of several churches in the city, were supplied with material 
from* the amphitheatre ; and the gigantic proportions 
of this splendid ruin may be gathered from the fact, that 
modern Rome owes the magnificence and solidity of its 
architecture to that spoliation, which is scarcely missed 
from the immense pile itself. The material remaining, 
after the plunder of the amphitheatre, has been estimated 
at a value of five millions of crowns (£1,000,000). 

It is certain, however, that all antiquaries, and the 
lovers of ancient architecture in particular, must condemn 
the ruthless plunder and spoliation which left the majestic 
ruin in its present state. Whatever excuse may be 
allowed for the Pauls and their nephews (as Gibbon 
sarcastically calls them), for the removal of even the 
lqose and separated materials, nothing can be urged in 


428 THE MART YES OF THE COLISEUM. 

justification of their immediate successors, who quarried 
the travertine from the intact building itself. It is uncer- 
tain at what precise period the Homan Government put 
a stop to this demolition ; most probably the ruin w T as 
taken under the paternal protection of the Popes, during 
the reign of the sainted Pius V., in 1565 ; certainly, from 
this time, it was held in the highest veneration by both 
government and people, and although in after times it 
served the public weal as a hospital or a manufactory, it 
was no longer plundered by luxurious princes. 

Under Sixtus Y. (A.D. 1585), the Coliseum underwent 
another change. No city was ever more indebted to its 
sovereign than was Rome to this great Pope. Whilst 
churches and convents and bridges sprang up on every 
side, the crumbling ruins of the ancient city were sup¬ 
ported and protected by walls of modern masonry. The 
prostrate obelisks were raised on suitable pedestals in the 
public squares, and works of art were dug from the earth 
to ornament and increase the attraction of the museums, 
which, under his care, were becoming the richest in the 
world. This energetic Pontiff conceived the idea, that 
every ruin of the ancient city should be an ornament or 
a service to Christian Rome. The Coliseum was a 
favourite monument; it received a double share of atten¬ 
tion. For some time he thought how it could be made 
to serve his poor people, preserving it, at the same time, 
even in its ruinous state, as a noble memento of the past. 
He at length conceived the idea of converting it into a 
woollen manufactory, in order to give employment and a 
home to the poor. The fertile genius of Fontana soon 
designed this castle of papal munificence ; thousands of 
poor artisans were employed ; some portions of the ruin 


OTHER REMARKABLE El ENTS. 


429 


verging towards the arena were removed as impeding the 
plan ; workshops and comfortable apartments were to 
rise, magic-like, over the podium of the old amphitheatre, 
and the dried-up aqueducts were repaired and cleaned out 
to bring fresh springs from the Campagna, to supply the 
fountains that were to play in the arena. The sum of 
twenty-five thousand crowns (£5000) had already been 
spent on the works, when death took away the enterpris¬ 
ing Pontiff. The stupendous scheme sank with him to 
the grave ; the works were abandoned, and a few brick 
walls remained to tell of the enterprise and philanthropy 
of Sixtus V. The celebrated Mabillon has said : “ Vixisseb 
Sixtus V. et Amphitheatrum, stupendum illud opus inte- 
gratum nunc haberemus ” (Had Sixtus y. lived, we 
should now have the amphitheatre, that stupendous work, 
entire). 

Clement XI. (in 1700) finding it had become a place 
of refuge for thieves and assassins, closed up the entrances 
to the lower arches, and established in the interior a 
saltpetre manufactory. This, which also failed like the 
works of Sixtus, was the last attempt to secularise the 
ruins of the Coliseum. 

Whilst the vicissitudes of spoliation in one reign, and 
of preservation in another, were passing over the great 
building that had survived both friends and foes, there 
was always a deep feeling of respect and veneration, in 
the heart of the people, for the spot which had been 
sanctified by the blood of so many martyrs. Through 
every century there were holy souls who loved to pass 
hours in prayer in its consecrated arena. And long before 
it was entirely handed over to the service of the cross, it 
had witnessed some of the most solemn and sacred func- 


430 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


tions of the Church. Although we have no positive docu* 
ments to prove the fact, we have no doubt that for many 
years during the middle ages, the holy sacrifice was 
celebrated in its safe and commodious arches. After the 
devastation of the Goths, and the centuries of internal 
wars that rolled over the ill-fated city, the churches had 
fallen to decay, and many of them were dangerous and 
unsafe for use. Is it to be wondered at, under these 
circumstances, that the Coliseum should be used as a vast 
temple in which the clean oblation of the altar should be 
offered to the Most High ? Many smaller churches 
sprang up around it. Cencius Camerarius mentions a 
few which have long since disappeared. There was the 
“ Holy Saviour of the Roto of the Coliseum ,” the “ Holy 
Saviour De Insula et Coliseo,” and the “ Forty Martyrs of 
the Coliseum!* 

There is a vague tradition of an ancient monastery 
having been perched in the corridors of the second tier. 
Some poor religious sisters had fled to the solitude of its 
desolate arches, like doves who build their nests in the 
abandoned eyry of vultures. The sweet and measured 
music of their sacred canticles echoed harmoniously 
through the mighty ruin, and formed a strange contrast 
with the fiendish shouts of other days. 

Here also took place a species of sacred performance 
very popular with our ancestors. These were the mystery 
plays of the middle ages ; and the life-like representation 
of the Passion on Good Friday was particularly remark¬ 
able. On a large and open stage, stretched towards the 
Coelian Hill, the whole scene of the Passion and death of 

* I have not found the Acts of these martyrs.— Author. 


OTHER REMARKABLE EVENTS. 431 

our blessed Lord was represented; every person mentioned 
in the Sacred Scripture was faithfully portrayed. Thou¬ 
sands poured in to see these representations; they con¬ 
tinued with the permission and sanction of the spiritual 
authorities of the city until the reign of Paul III. Truly 
the representation of the sufferings of Christ never had a 
more suitable theatre than this Calvary of His disciples. 

Bacci, in his Life of St. Philip Neri, relates of this great 
father that he had from his childhood a great devotion to 
the martyrs. Hence he passed whole nights in prayer in 
the Catacombs of St. Sebastian. He often repaired to 
the Coliseum, to honour the martyrs who suffered in its 
arena. On one occasion, when wrapt in prayer in the 
arena, the demon appeared to him in an immodest shape, 
and endeavoured to distract aud tempt him ; but the 
saint had recourse to God, and the evil spirit was obliged 
to leave him to finish his devotions in peace. 

An extraordinary circumstance is related of one of the 
disciples of St. Ignatius in the life of that father, by 
Maffei (Book iii., chap. ix.). Almighty God was pleased 
to try the infant institution just founded by St. Ignatius ; 
this, however, was the surest sign of His favour and 
benediction. It happened that the house of the pro¬ 
fessed fathers was reduced to such distress that they had 
barely the necessaries of life. John Cruccio, who was a 
colleague of the saint and procurator of the house, was 
a humble soul of exalted virtue, and with the permission 
of the venerable founder, he went to St. John’s Lateran 
to pray to Almighty God for relief for the Order. On 
returning home he passed through the Coliseum. He 
was met in the arena by a stranger, who handed him a 
purse with a hundred crowns (<£20), and immediately 


432 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


disappeared. The astonished procurator hastened to 
tell St. Ignatius of the unexpected gift; the saint did not 
seem the least surprised, but, kneeling down, thanked 
God who had deigned to hear their prayers. It is said 
of this same St. Ignatius that he had great devotion to 
the martyrs of the Coliseum. 

In the life of St. Camillus de Lellis, a contemporary 
of St. Philip Neri, and founder of the Order of Regular 
Clerics for ministering to the Sick, we find another 
extraordinary favour granted at the Coliseum. When 
Camillus was a young man studying for the priesthood, 
he went one morning with a number of other youths to 
the Church of St. John Lateran to receive the tonsure 
from the hands of the Cardinal Vicar. It was found, 
however, there was some mistake in his dimissorial 
letters, as he belonged to the diocese of Chieti ; he was, 
consequently, with much shame and disappointment 
separated from his companions. The holy youth bore 
the cross nobly, and cheerfully accepted the mortification 
as coming from the hand of God to try his patience. 
His submission did not pass without its reward. On 
his way home, when he came to the Coliseum, something 
told him he would get over his difficulty in a few hours. 
At the same moment he met Father Francis Profeta, his 
companion and friend, who told him not to be in the 
least disappointed at what had happened, for all would 
be right before sunset. This was an inspiration given 
him by God in behalf of the holy youth. On reaching 
the hospital of St. James of the Incurables, where he 
lived, he found a priest from his own diocese waiting for 
him. The good father was much afflicted at the disap¬ 
pointment of Camillus, and immediately went with 


OTHER REMARKABLE EVENTS . 433 

another priest to the notary of the Cardinal, and testified 
on oath to the authenticity of the exeat of Camillas. 
He was sent for at once, and admitted into the ecclesias¬ 
tical state, which filled him with a joy he had never felt 
before. 

In the year 1703, the Coliseum suffered severely from 
an earthquake. This event is memorable in the annals 
of the city, as well as in the history of the amphitheatre. 
Two or three heavy shocks had already been felt during 
the latter part of the month of January, and the people 
were in consternation. On the 2nd of February, Clement 
XL held a papal chapel in the Sixtine, in honour of the 
purification of the Blessed Virgin Mary. At the end of 
the mass, two very heavy shocks of earthquake were 
again felt; they were much severer than any of the 
former. All the prelates in the Sixtine were terrified ; 
the roof cracked as if about to fall on the Pope and Car¬ 
dinals ; the holy father knelt down, and every one pre¬ 
sent joined in a silent and trembling prayer for the 
preservation of the city. The bell tower of St. Augus¬ 
tine’s and the obelisk in the piazza Navona were seen to 
lean forward as if about to fall, and many old houses i i 
the neighbourhood fell to the ground. When the rumb¬ 
ling noise had ceased, and the vibration, which seemed to 
be the effect of the shock, had died away, the Pope with 
all the Cardinals repaired to the tomb of the Apostles, to 
thank God for their delivery. On the Scala Regia lie 
was met by one of the Penitentiaries of the Basilica, who 
endeavoured to dissuade him from going into the church, 
for they had seen the mighty dome itself rocking to and 
fro, and threatening every moment to come down in a 
mass on their heads. Nevertheless, the courageous Pon- 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


< i«54 

tiff entered the Basilica, and remained more than an hour 
in prayer at the tomb of St. Peter. 

On the following morning (Feb. 3), about three o’clock, 
the last and most terrible shock was felt. A sound like 
thunder rolled through the city; three arches of the 
Coliseum fell to * the ground ; every house was seriously 
shaken, and many people were flung forward on the earth 
through the vehemence of the shock. 

In the midst of the confusion, some wicked men circu¬ 
lated the report, that it was revealed to the Pope that 
the city was to be destroyed, and that the people should 
leave it at once. Their object was robberj^ and plunder. 
The report gained ground, and a terrible scene ensued. 
Men and women and children rushed in crowds to the 
gates, carrying what valuables they could in their arms; 
mothers, with tender infants at the breast, and feeble old 
men on the shoulders of stalwart youths, and boys and 
girls half dressed, ran after their terrified parents, seeking 
refuge in the fields outside the city. Exclamations of 
terror and fright were heard on every side, as if the day 
of judgment had come. Whilst the poor people were 
trembling in the open Campagna, during the whole of 
that cold February night, expecting every moment to see 
their homes in flames or swallowed up in the earth, thieves 
were pillaging their houses, and making away with every 
valuable they could lay hold of. In the morning, the 
Pope sent his guards through every place of refuge, and 
ordered the people to return, for the report was false, and 
he assured them there was no longer any fear for the 
safety of the city. 

When calm was restored, the holy Pope celebrated a 
mass of thanksgiving in the Church of Santa Maria in 


435 


OTHER REMARKABLE EVENT'S. 

Trastevere, and walked bareheaded in a procession to 
the Basilica of St. Peter. He then proclaimed that, for a 
hundred years, the vigil of the Feast of the Purification 
should be kept a strict fast. This fast was renewed in 
1803, by Pius VII., and is still kept with devotion in 
Rome, in memory of this great event. 

About eleven years after the event we have recorded, 
the Coliseum was rapidly becoming the resort of thieves 
and vagabonds, who concealed themselves by night under 
the dark and sombre passages of its arches. The vener¬ 
able Angelo Paulo, of the Carmelite Order, had just 
erected a hospital in the adjoining street of St. Clement, 
and was a frequent eye-witness to the profanation of the 
venerable ruin. Fired with a holy zeal for the honour of 
the martyrs, he procured the authorisation of Clement 
XI., in 1714, and by public subscription, in which the 
Roman people liberally joined, he removed the debris ol 
the fallen arches, closed up the open passages, and even 
secured the principal entrances by wooden gates, which 
were locked at night to prevent the free access of 
animals and evil-designing men. No traces of these 
gates remain at present. 

Our next notice of the amphitheatre is in the reign of 
the great Pope Benedict XIV., A.D. 1740. 

A few years sufficed to sweep away the barriers that 
impeded for a while the destruction of the ruin. The 
venerable Angela Paulo had gone to his reward, and the 
Coliseum became worse than ever—.the home of infamy 
and vice. The evil went on increasing, but silently and 
unknown to the authorities. At length, crime became 
its own informer—a terrible tragedy revealed the after- 
dark scenes of the Coliseum. 


436 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


A holy man, named Francis Parigino, wishing to lead 
a solitary life, repaired to the silent corridors of the 
amphitheatre, assuming with the permission of the 
authorities, the guardianship of the little chapel that was 
dedicated to our Mother of Sorrows on the second tier. 
He had not been long in his retreat when, in the dead of 
the night, his solitude was broken by the sound of human 
voices in the arches beneath. The noise increased, and 
he heard every word that was uttered. His horror may 
be imagined when he heard a hoarse, rough voice distinctly 
say: “ I’ll murder you if you don’t do as I tell you.” 
Then the scream of a female rung loud and shrill through 
the silent ruin. Recommending himself to God, he 
rushed bravely to give assistance to stay the hand of a 
murderer. But when he reached the spot whence the 
sound proceeded, all was as still as death; and with his 
heart beating hard in his breast, he groped his way 
through the dark and sombre arches. It was in the 
depth of winter, and not even a straggling moonbeam 
broke through the darkness. He paused to catch even 
the sound of the breathing of a human being, but the 
wind was strong, and sighed mournfully through the 
haunted ruin. At length, trembling and terrified, he 
heard a noise near him. Before he had time to speak or 
stir, a strong rough hand seized him by the throat, and 
the blow of a knife brought him to'the ground. 

When morning dawned, the poor hermit came to his 
senses. He found himself lying in a pool of blood which 
flowed from seven wounds of a stiletto. The first had 
taken away consciousness, and he had not felt the pain 
of the others. His first act was to raise his heart towards 
heaven to thank God that he was so far preserved. There 


OTHER REMARKABLE E VENTS. 437 

was no friendly hand near to help him to his little chapel, 
for he wished to offer his wounds to his dear mother 
whose image he venerated so much. After much strug¬ 
gling and pain, falling several times through weakness, 
he reached his beloved capella. He poured forth all his 
soul in prayer; he asked but for grace to do the will of 
God. Whilst kneeling as well as he could before the 
altar of the Madonna, he suddenly felt a change come 
over him; the pain left his wounds ; he thought some 
delicious ointment was poured on them; he was cured. 
For hours his tears of joy, surprise, and gratitude fell on 
the tiled floor of the little church. With a heart burst¬ 
ing with that interior joy and peace that surpasseth all 
understanding, he could only exclaim : “ O, my good 
mother! my good mother ! ” 

It is the property of Almighty God to draw good from 
evil. The rumour of the attempted murder and the 
miraculous cure spread abroad, and numbers came 
through devotion or curiosity to see the hermit,and his 
Madonna. One day Benedict XIV. came to the Coliseum 
to venerate its martyrs, for whom he had a great devo¬ 
tion. He sent for the poor hermit, and heard from his 
own lips all that had happened. The zealous Pontiff was 
inspired with a holy zeal to save the venerable pile from 
further profanation. He ordered the governor of the 
city to issue an edict, threatening the galleys and exile to 
persons found loitering about these hiding-places after 
nightfall. Great repairs were undertaken at his own ex¬ 
pense ; the chapel was renewed; the Stations of the Cross 
already erected were reconstructed on a larger and 
grander scale, and an impulse was given to the devotion 
and reverence towards this remarkable ruin that has not 


438 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


died away to this day. It was on this occasion that the 
confraternity of The Lovers of Jesus and Mary on Calvary 
was instituted. They go in procession from their little 
church in the Forum to the Coliseum every Friday after¬ 
noon ; a sermon is preached by a Franciscan monk on 
the Passion, and then in wet, or heat, or cold, the pious 
members go through the beautiful devotions of the Way 
of the Cross. The great St. Leonard of Port Maurice 
was the preacher who opened these devotions ; and the 
fire of his eloquence and love seems to animate the hum¬ 
ble monks who follow in his footsteps, for there is scarcely 
any devotion so sincere, or so loved by the Roman people, 
as the Stations of the Cross in the Coliseum on Friday 
evenings. Pious souls gather from every portion of the 
city to join them ; and their recollection and piety, their 
penance in the sackcloth of the confraternities, and kneel¬ 
ing bareheaded on the sandy arena, strike with reverence 
and awe the giddy strangers who have come to scoff and 
ridicule. Their thoughts are suddenly taken from scenes 
of gladiators, and shouts against the Christians and the 
cross, to see that cross borne in triumph on the same spot 
by the Christians themselves. Could any return more 
pleasing be given to our blessed Lord, for the insults He 
received in the Coliseum, than the humble devotion of 
those pious souls around His saving cross 1 Alas ! such 
is not the case now. The Goths from Piedmont have 
entered by the Salarian gate and they wage war against 
the Pope, the feelings of the people, and the cross of 
our blessed Lord. The Coliseum will bear for centuries 
to come the traces of the desecration it suffered in the 
nineteenth century, from the government of Victor 
Emanuel. The cross has been pulled down from the 


OTHER REMARKABLE EVENTS. 439 

arena—the stations levelled to the ground, and the soil 
uselessly and maliciously disturbed. The spoilers are 
aware that the ground-work of the interior was opened 
in the commencement of the eighteenth century by 
Fea, and others, and had to be filled in again from the 
noxious effects of its stagnant waters. This interference 
with this hallowed ruin marked at its time the reign of 
French desecration—the downfall of its dynasty, and the 
shameful exile of its ruler. We know not what the 
future may bring, but in the ever recurring cycle of hu¬ 
man vicissitudes the unmeaning profanation of this vener¬ 
able ruin may mark, in the history of ages to come, the 
short-lived reign of Piedmontese usurpation. About the 
year 1775, another remarkable hermit took possession 
of the little chapel on the second story. He was a 
Frenchman, who gave up all worldly possessions to fol¬ 
low our blessed Lord in evangelical poverty. This holy 
man spent many sleepless nights in prayer in the Coli¬ 
seum. Often the Divine Spirit flooded his soul with 
joys unknown to the sleeping world around; to him there 
was neither darkness nor silence in the lonely ruin ; the 
splendour of the angels who kept him company was more 
brilliant than the dazzling brightness of the meridian 
sun ; the music of the heavenly choirs, so often heard by 
him in his ecstasies, floated in celestial harmony through 
the cold bleak arches of this abandoned monument of 
the past which served him for a home. When this poor 
hermit of the Coliseum had breathed his pure soul into 
the hands of God, a thousand voices proclaimed through 
the city that a saint was dead. Public opinion had him 
immediately enrolled on the calendar of sanctity, and 
miracles without number proved that this judgment was 


440 THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 

ratified in heaven. A few years later he was proclaimed 
“ Blessed ” by the infallible voice of the Holy See; and 
one of the last, though not the least, remarkable names 
that swell the lengthy catalogue of Home’s spiritual heroes 
was Benedict Joseph Labre, the hermit of* the Coliseum. 

The first half of the nineteenth century, so stormy and 
eventful in the nations around, rolled a silent wave over 
the Coliseum. With the exception of timely repairs 
instituted by the four last Popes, and the ever-increasing 
devotion and reverence of the people, we have nothing 
to record. The immense buttresses erected by Pius VII., 
on the side facing St. John’s Lateran, form a splendid 
specimen of modern masonry. In the last arches of the 
outer wall in this quarter, there is a peculiar phenomenon 
of art, worthy the attention of the stranger. The key 
stone of one of the arches has fallen completely into the 
supporting brick wall of modern work. All around, the 
mighty travertine blocks are rent with gaping fissures ; 
the whole ruin seems ready to totter and fall to a thou¬ 
sand pieces at the first gust of wind; yet this is the safest 
portion of the ruin. 

The immortal Pius IX., in the midst of all his troubles, 
has not forgotten the venerable ruin that bears, through 
so many centuries, the marks of paternal care from the 
Holy See. Under the able superintendence of Canina, 
many of the interior arches which threatened to fall have 
been secured, and seem to defy the ravages of time for 
centuries yet to come. 

In the dark hour of trouble that passed over Rome in 
1848, the Coliseum had its share of the profanation and 
impiety that drove the Pope from his throne. An apos¬ 
tate priest usurped the pulpit of the Franciscan Friars; 


OTHER REMARKABLE EVENTS. 


441 


instead of a moving address on the love and sorrows of the 
Crucified, a fanatical mob was regaled by a tissue of 
blasphemies against everything sacred in time and 
eternity. Led on by the fallen Gavazzi, the.ungrateful 
Roman populace made the old Coliseum ring with that 
dreadful shout that so often shook its foundations when 
filled by their pagan ancestors, “ Down with the Pope ”— 
“Death to all tyrants.” These, and similar expressions 
used on this occasion, were but another form of those 
blasphemies which so much delighted the evil spirits in 
the first centuries; they had the same object in view, the 
ruin of souls and the annihilation of Christianity ! But 
that power which is centred in Pius IX., and triumphed 
of old in a thousand battles with the powers of darkness, 
in the very same arena of the Coliseum, laughed at its 
enemies in their folly ; yea, laughed at them, too, in their 
terrible transit to eternal doom i 



CHAPTER XXVI. 


THE CONCLUSION. 




* T is with regret we find ourselves at the last chapter 
of this little book. We feel as if we were about to 
part with an old friend. The occasional hours we 
have spent over the records of this great ruin, the history 
of which we have but sketched in these pages, will in 
after years afford the most cheerful reminiscences, and 
matter for the deepest meditation. A few weeks more, 
and thousands of miles will separate us ; the briny ocean 
will roll its unceasing tide between us and that great 
monument, in whose arena we have stood in rapture and 
delight, but memory will often again bring us back in 
spirit to these old walls. For some there is poetry, elo¬ 
quence and philosophy in the ivy-clad ruins of the past; 
although nothing more may be known of them, than 
that they are the crumbling walls of a castle, an abbey, or 
a church, still they have their attraction; fancy flings 
around them all the charms of art, and clothes them with 
the beauty of romance. The active mind sums up tales 
of human vicissitudes; battles, and murders, and deeds 
of daring and crime, are flung around them; and thus, 
creative fancy invests with poetical magnificence the 
humblest monument of the past. But the old amphi- 


THE CONCLUSION. 


443 


theatre is a ruin that needs not the aid of fancy to in¬ 
crease it in size or importance. Its immensity and mag¬ 
nificence, as it stands even now, after the shock and des¬ 
truction of centuries, form a picture grander and more 
perfect than any castle ever built by imagination on the 
clouds around the setting sun. No fancy, no poetry could 
invent a more marvellous history. The greatest wonders 
found in the records of the past; scenes of love, of 
bravery, of crime and cruelty, form a romance of terrible 
reality, that shrouds the Coliseum with an interest and a 
veneration that no other ruin in the world can command. 

Roman in its origin, Oriental in its size, Grecian in 
its architecture, Jewish in the labourers who built it, 
cosmopolitan in its spectacles of men and beasts from 
every clime, and Christian in the blood that sanctified it 
during three centuries, it was the theatre of the most 
bloody and cruel pleasures, and the temple of the most 
heroic virtue. In the lapse of ages, it adapted itself to 
the exigencies of each era. At one time a fortress, now 
a convent, then a hospital; an arena and circus for a 
bull-fight and a tournament; a quarry supplying material 
for the most sumptuous edifices; a manufactory; a rob¬ 
bers’ den ; and in the end, a sanctuary and a shrine to 
which pilgrims resort from the furthest ends of the earth. 
Thus, in a few words, we sum up its extraordinary and 
interesting history. After centuries of infamy and cruelty, 
it is now the hallowed temple wherein is preached the 
law of self-denial and expiation. The regeneration of 
Rome is beautifully portrayed in the destinies of its 
greatest pagan monuments. The pantheon, once the 
centre of all the aberrations of idolatry, is now the tem¬ 
ple of all the Christian virtues. The temple of Jupiter 


444 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


on the Capitol, the culminating point of Rome’s domi- 
nion over the world, is now replaced by the Church of 
Ara Coeli—the church of the Crib—the abasement of the 
Man-God—the contempt of all the grandeurs of the world. 
The palace of the Caesars, which was the emporium of all 
the riches of the world, is reduced to a few ivy-clad walls, 
which protect a convent of voluntary poverty, raised 
amid the very debris of the Golden House; and the 
Coliseum, the theatre of the furies and the passions, be¬ 
comes a monument sheltered under the wings of religion, 
and dedicated to the cross, to the self-denial and humilia¬ 
tion taught us in the Dolorous Way of Calvary. 

It remains now that we see the Coliseum by moonlight. 
The effect is truly charming. The French have beauti¬ 
fully called the moon the sun of ruins. Her rich mellow 
rays give all old walls a fantastic existence; but there is 
no monument of antiquity in which the effects of reflected 
light are so beautiful as in this ruin. The Romans pre¬ 
fer the time in which the moon is rising between Frascati 
and Monte Porzio, so that they may see the whole splen¬ 
dour of its silvery light poured down on the most perfect 
part of the immense fabric. The broken arches and 
isolated fragments, under the magic influence of moon¬ 
light, assume the appearance of castles, of temples, and 
triumphal arches, rising on each other to the heavens in 
fairy splendour. Mighty walls seem riven in twain, and 
appear to bend over their centre of gravity, like the lean¬ 
ing towers of Pisa and Bologna, suspended in the air, and 
threatening every moment to fall with a tremendous 
crash. Here a broken and a fallen column assumes the 
appearance of a dying gladiator or a martyred Christian; 
there a cornice, half buried in the ruins, reminds you of 


THE CONCLUSION. 


445 


a lioness gathering herself up for a spring on a tiger or a 
bear; and here again a heap of earth, lit up by some 
scattered rays that steal through the fissures in the great 
wall, seems like a gigantic elephant about to perform ex¬ 
traordinary manoeuvres at the command of his keepers ; 
the plants and flowers that deck every portion of the 
ruin, and move to and fro in the gentle breeze, remind 
you of the moving masses that once filled these desolate 
benches. 

But we have been inadvertently intruding on the do¬ 
main of the poets. The Coliseum by moonlight is a theme 
sacred to the Muses. Cold and insipid is the prose of the 
historian, compared with the sublime verses of Byron and 
Monckton Milnes. We will give an extract from each of 
those writers. Let the beauty and power of their gifted 
pens lend the magnificence of a transformation scene to 
this last page of our chapter of tragedies ; let the joy and 
elevation of feeling found in reading those sublime and 
eloquent verses of the immortal dead, make the reader 
forget the shortcomings of the pen that now closes its 
labours of love. 


I do remember me, that in my youth, 

When I was wandering upon such a night, 

I stood within the Coliseum’s wall, 

'Midst the chief relics of almighty Rome ; 

The trees that grew along the broken arches 
Waved dark in the blue midnight, and the star 
Shone through the rents of ruin; from afar 
The watch-dog bayed beyond the Tiber; and 
More near, from out the Csesars’ palace, came 
The owl’s long cry, and interruptedly, 

Of distant sentinels, the fitful song 



446 


THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM. 


Begun and died on the gentle wind. 

Some cypresses beyond the time-worn beach 
Appeared to skirt the horizon, yet they stood 
Within a bowshot. Where the Caesars dwelt, 

And dwell the tuneless birds of night, amidst 
A grove which springs through levelled battlements. 

And twines its roots with the imperial hearths. 

Ivy usurps the laurel’s place of growth; 

But the gladiator’s bloody circus stands, 

A noble wreck in ruinous perfection ! 

While Caesars’ chambers and the Augustan halls 
Grovel on earth in indistinct decay; 

And thou didst shine, thou rolling moon, upon 
All this, and cast a wide and tender light, 

Which softened down the hoar austerity 
Of rugged desolation, and filled up, 

As ’twere anew, the gaps of centuries, 

Leaving that beautiful which still was so, 

And making that which was not, till the place 
Became religion, and the heart ran o’er 
With silent worship of the great of old ; 

The dead but sceptered sovereigns who still rule 
Our spirits from their urns.” 

— Manfred. 


I stood one night, one rich Italian night, 

When the moon’s lamp was prodigal with light, 
Within that circus whose enormous range, 
Though rent and shattered by a life of change, 
Still stretches forth its undiminished span, 
Telling the weakness and the strength of man. 
In that vague hour which magnifies the great. 
When desolation seems most desolate, 

I thought not of the rushing crowds of yore, 
Who filled with din the vasty corridor ! 

Those hunters of fierce pleasure are swept by. 
And host on host has trampled where they lie. 
But where is he that stood so strong and bold. 
In his thick armour of enduring gold— 



THE CONCLUSION. 


447 


Whose massive form, irradiant as the sun, 

Baptised the work his glory beamed upon 
With his own name, Colossal ?—From the day 
Has that sublime illusion slunk away, 

Leaving a blank, weed-matted pedestal 
Of his high place, the sole memorial? 

And is this the miracle of imperial power. 

The chosen of his tutelage, hour by hour. 

Following his doom, and Rome alive? Awake, 

Weak mother ! orphaned as thou art, to take 
From fate this sordid boon of lengthened life. 

Of most unnatural life, which is not life 
As thou wert used to live. Oh ! rather stand 
By thy green waste, as on the palm-flecked sand, 

Old Tadmor, hiding^not its death ;—a tomb. 

Haunted by sounds of life is none the less a tomb. 
Then from that picture of that wreck-strewn ground, 
Which the arch held in frame-work, slowly round 
I turned my eyes and fixed them, where was seen 
A long 'Spare shadow, stretched across the green, 

The shadow of the ciucifix—that stood 
A simple shape, of rude, uncarved wood, 

Raising erect and firm its lowly head 

Amid that pomp of ruin,—amid the dead 

A sign of silent life ;—the mystery 

Of Rome’s immortal being was then made clear to ma> 


THE END. 



















































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